All language subtitles for Billions S07E03

Previously on Billions.

Truman had a sign on his desk

that said,
"The buck stops here."

Mine's gonna say,
"I am the buck."

It's one thing to help keep
the trains running

when it was just about Prince
staying rich and getting richer.

But I have decided
that he is dangerous.

Mr. Rhoads,
charges are dismissed.

You are free to go.

What's got your eye?

You must be fielding job offers
by the dozen.

I'm talking about US Attorney,

Southern district of New York.

-This guy's a fuckin' badass!
-Olé!

This is the best thing that's
ever happened on this floor.

He's got that
"Winston Dick Energy" happening.

And when we win,

you'll be feted
as a miracle worker.

You're not a politician.

You're hoping to contribute
by doing a public service.

A statesman.

Let's do this!

Mr. President.

It is an honour to hear from you.

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Hi, Mr. Wagner.

Let's see what's
in the old footlocker, Omar.

Let me get you your bottle.

Here's your bottle.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the author himself,
Michael Lewis.

So the street has changed.

It's been cleaned up. Sanitised.

I mean, no one says
"fuck" anymore.

They've taken the strippers off

the trading floors.

In a way,
the lie has gone deeper

because no one on the outside

looks the way they are
on the inside.

Except for you. I think of you
as the last holdout.

The last wolves
in wolves' clothing.

The last crass motherfuckers.

So in that spirit,

let's raise a glass
to crass motherfuckers

and the 35th anniversary
of Liar's Poker.

What a beautiful con
you've pulled, Lewis.

They all think Liar's Poker was
a love letter to them. Kudos.

It wasn't a con, Wags.
I just wrote it the way it was.

And people see in it
what they want to see.

Hmm. Like disco balls
and coke mirrors.

Salut.

Hey, you really got us right.
Thanks.

You're gonna have to
tell me your name.

-Clark.
-Ah, Clark.

Eric fuckin' Scott.

Wags!

Glad to see you haven't
decamped to Florida yet

like the the rest of 'em.

I must love taxes

and a bodega
bacon, egg and cheese.

That's why I'm still
slugging it out in Gotham.

No, the rumour is
your guy's rolling in Europe.

New guy, new money now.

And I'm making room in the Ark
for a select few old friends.

Mike Wagner playing pitchman?
Sad.

Maybe New York is dead
after all

and I should be packing
for Brickell.

I'm not selling you
a Veg-O-Matic here, buddy.

I'm giving you a chance
to turn your wad over

a last time or two.

Let's drink on this.

You are a legend, Wags,

so I wanna hear you out.

You're the guy that ran up
a tab so high at Ponte's

that Joe almost had to take
out a mob loan

just to keep serving
those angry lobsters.

Oh, Ponte's was nothing.

Do you remember when
you went to Career Day

for that escort's kid?

What was that, '96?
That fucking killed me.

Her name was Claire.
She was special to me.

Right, Claire.

You hired her for, uh,

that Tiger Cub's
bachelor party.

Oh, that's right.
The poor guy got simplex

on his lip on his wedding day.

You hired him
'cause you felt so bad.

Yeah, till he tanked
one quarter

and Wags used his desk
as a urinal.

Well, there was a day

you stepped wrong
on Wags' trading floor,

and he would bloody you up
like Jake the Muss.

I can still walk the walk.

Mm.

You should hear me on this:

Michael Prince Capital
is where you want to be.

We're not taking on
institutional money,

but like I said...

I can get exceptions made
for you lugs.

And I'll make some room
in the fund

for some of your clients,
but only the A-listers.

Make you look like superstars.

You always did have
the best ideas about...

which club to hit
after the Super Bowl,

or where to get the best
space cakes in Amsterdam.

And he killed it
'cause that fucking attitude

drove you like Max Verstappen.

No offence, but now...

you got about as much edge
as Barry Manilow.

Offence fucking taken.

Hey, hey, hey,

everybody gets left behind
at some point.

You privately embrace
your obsolescence

and hope nobody
notices for a while.

Speak for yourself,
motherfucker.

It was one thing when
you worked for a bad ass,

but now you're in
a politician's stable,

which is one step away
from the fucking glue factory.

Keep talking
and I'll mollywop ya right here

in front of the whole gang.

I'll wait a while
for the Cialis to kick in.

Hey, Omar,

put my bottle back
in the locker.

Let these assholes go back

to choking on their usual swill.

Well, he got fucking sensitive.

You couldn't buy it
for yourself,

so I figured I would.

It's perfect.

Heading out?

Yeah, but you might not want to

leave the office for a while.

Oh, the going away thing, yeah.

Scooter's got it.
I-I have something else.

Gratitude, shame, entitlement,

these are our...

I don't really
traffic in that crap.

No, on this occasion,
the eve of my departure,

I would like to say
to you all...

I would like to say:
You're welcome,

for all that I've
brought to MPC.

And in the words of
the great poet DJ Khaled,

"Every time I step
up in the building,

everybody hands go up,

and they stay there.

'Cause all I do is win."

Anyone else care
to say something?

-You sure?
-Is it weird that I'll miss him?

-Objectively, yes.
-Right?

-Yeah, fuck you, Winston.
-But after the "Princident,"

Winston was the only one
who looked at me the same way.

But that way was slavish
and pathetic.

Don't be shy.
Anybody?

Anybody?

Okay, then. I'll just say
one more thing.

Ah, actually, Winston,
I have something to share.

Is Prince coming?

Uh, no. No, he's not.

He's... not.

But he did ask me
to convey to you

that you truly have been
a member of this...

-Team!
-He said "organisation."

He usually calls it a team.

This time he went
with organisation.

And so, yeah.

Goodbye and thanks.

Goodbye.

I hate it. And you're proposing
to send a copy of it

to Chuck Rhoades?
I hate everything about that.

Can you figure out
why I love it?

Are you that good?

Okay. Okay.

The purpose of
a Super PAC is to get

high-net-worth supporters
to invest in your candidacy

in a way that seems arms-length.
You know this.

The idea is not to put yourself
in a position

where you're gonna face
federal charges.

That is, I concede,
the usual plan.

Ah.

You're running a dye test here.

You want to see if Chuck Rhoades
is paying attention?

Okay. A trainer feeds
a caged tiger fresh beef

so it develops a taste for that
instead of trainer.

The tiger's waiting by his door,
same time every day,

ready to pounce on it.

But you know the scariest moment
of a trainer's life?

When he goes inside
the enclosure

and the cat isn't there.

They can't see it.

Doesn't mean that
cat escaped,

it means it's hiding,

ready to revert
to its nature and hunt.

I can't afford to let
Chuck Rhoades

revert to his nature.

So you're feeding him
some red meat,

so you know exactly
where he's coming from.

That's right.

Still hate it.

Can I still hate it? 'Cause...

...still hate it.

Kate Sacker's
gonna get it to him.

Hi, Wendy.

I was wondering if you could
write me a prescription.

For Wellbutrin.

Um, if necessary, of course.

Why don't we set
an intake session for tomorrow

-then we can decide--
-I only need one, actually.

One pill?

I've been taking it
for a while now,

and it's a good fit.

I just dropped my last one
down the sink this morning,

and my, uh,

prescriber has been out of town
for a couple of days.

I'll be able to get
my full refill soon.

Your "prescriber"--
you mean your GP?

Um...

- Yeah.
- Ben Kim,

who prescribed the Wellbutrin?

Fine. I've been seeing
an outside psychiatrist.

She prescribed the meds,

but she's been in Vienna
for a conference.

Getting back tomorrow night.

I see. Um...

How long have you been
seeing this doctor?

Respectfully, this is
separate from what you do.

We all think you're an awesome
performance coach--

Three months? Longer?

Six months.

So, um...

will you help?

With the prescription?

Of course, yes.

"We all."
Who else is seeing her?

I assume we're taking
down the Russ & Daughters novi

in this random office
so that yours doesn't smell like

an appetising shop
during your next meeting?

Actually, this is your office.

If you want it.

"Come join me for a celebratory
kickoff breakfast, Ira."

Of course, it couldn't be
just that. It was a trap.

Oh!

Trap sounds so sinister.
No. It's an opportunity.

Come on, you've got the money,

you've got the wife,
the new kid.

But you know what
you're missing?

An alpaca?

The juice! The action!

Sense of mission.

The long hours.
The long odds.

The shitty pay.

Ah, Chuck, I've been
a prosecutor before--

N-n-no, we were just
line prosses back then.

Answering up. You've never
done it with me in charge.

Only running the ops we choose,
fighting back to back,

no matter how outgunned by

pricey douchebag
defence attorneys.

Taking down the even bigger
douchebags who employ them.

Be my Deputy US Attorney.

Nope. No way.

I'm sorry. You know
I'd love to spend all day

hanging with you.
That's the alluring part.

- Mm.
- And the...

chance to do a thing that
actually matters does appeal...

I'll stay quiet and let you
talk yourself into it.

But you know we'd end up
arguing all day.

There's no conversation
more boring

than the one
where everyone agrees.

Montaigne's a deep pull,
I'll give you that.

Oh.

Swabbies are on the deck, boss.

Ah, I see you've succeeded
with one recruit at least.

Just one? You sure?
At least one.

I am genuinely
thrilled to be here.

And I don't thrill easy.

Uh-uh.

Oh, we're going to hold
the rich and powerful

and criminal accountable
for their actions,

no matter the cost.

I want you to go back
to your desks

and pull the cases you
thought were too hot,

too hard, too close
to the third rail.

Pitch me those cases--

directly,
not through channels--

and together we will take
that unformed carbon

and pressurise it
into diamonds.

Into wins.

All right, let's do it.

Fuck no,
I don't see a shrink.

Do you talk about work
with your other therapist?

Yes.

But it's a totally
separate thing.

Church and state, you know?

Dr. Mayer is
your classic Freudian.

She's all about
getting to the "why,"

even if it has
unexpected results.

It's a trip.

Seems I have a lot of resentment
for maternal figures in my life.

I mostly talk about weird
recurring dreams with her.

Like, you don't need to
know about sex dreams, right?

It's not work relevant.

Except like, when
it's about the displacement

and sublimation of
my desires in the workplace.

But it's only sometimes
about that.

I know my rights.

That includes
the Patient's Bill of Rights,

to not discuss shit
about what I discuss

or with whom I discuss.

-So there is someone?
-Or if I discuss.

I tell all my friends, just
because a cop asks a question

doesn't mean you gotta answer.

I owe Dr. Mayer big time.

I used to wake up from about
3 to 4 a.m. each night

replaying this conversation
I had once with an ex.

What kind of conversation?

Well, that's
between me and the doc.

But the thing is, it's gone.

And now I'm all Z's
from eyes shut

till open in the morning.

So you've never met
with Dr. Mayer?

Okay, fine. I just started.

I hardly said anything
in my sessions.

So it hasn't really
paid off for you?

Can't say that. No.

I'd been burying
some of my natural

aggressive tendencies
since the fund blew up.

But... well, I'm back
to Liver King levels now.

At work and in the bedroom.

I've been using
every inch of that Cali King.

Train kept a-rollin'
all night long.

Who suggested you see her?

Person who hired me.

Have I not supported you
in our work together?

It isn't about that.
I am not only the work.

And you can't deny your focus
is more on results than people.

Dr. Mayer takes
a holistic approach.

So I've heard. I didn't realise
my approach was lacking.

Or that you, of all people,

didn't trust me
with your whole self.

How are we supposed
to move forward

with that sitting between us?

It isn't about trust.
Our people needed a real doctor.

-And so did I.
-I am a real doctor.

Technically, yes.
But I'm not sure anyone here

feels comfortable
coming to you with anything

besides work stuff.

And Mayer creates
a very safe atmosphere.

A safe feeling,
just being around her.

Excuse me.

How do you know she's here?

Security called to let her up.

Who are you here to see,
ma'am-- uh, Bonnie?

Drop the bullshit, Peach.

Babe, babe, babe.

I've been waiting for you
to step out of those elevators

since I got back here.

But maybe we should talk
after work, on the down low.

Jesus Christ.
I'm not here for that.

- Oh, yeah. Just--
- Bonnie!

What can we help you with?

It's what I can help you with.

Your former man
Winston is shopping

a new piece of
risk-management software

on the Street right now.

He pitched it
at my firm this morning,

and I haven't seen
the principals this excited

since they were
rubbing up against me

at the Christmas party.

I heard he left here
just yesterday,

so the timing seemed sus.

Goddamnit!

And on my watch. Fuck!

That moonlighting prick.
Where does he get the energy?

-Fuck!
-You already said "fuck."

But, yeah, you're right.

He must've developed this
before he left.

WDE Risk Management.
What's WDE...?

Winston Dick Energy.

I don't espouse it, I just
know what it stands for.

He said it... often.

Why are you willing
to come share this with us?

'Cause if there's one thing
I hate more than this place,

it's backstabbing thieves,
so I had to set things right.

-No, that's not it--
-Yeah, no way.

Total bullshit.

Fine. I'm looking for a bump
in comp at my new firm.

Give me an offer
I can use as leverage,

and I'll forward you
the pitch deck.

-Right.
-Naturally.

That's the Bonnie we know.

We'll write something up
and email you.

Still looking fly
in that fleece.

Call me.

What kind of AI does it use?

ASI for risk mitigation.

It works automatically
across all sectors

to detect hidden exposure
throughout the portfolio

and reduce it
through a variety

of hedges
and other techniques.

The edge this would
give on returns is...

-considerable.
-We need it back.

And to make it clear that
no one takes from us and lives.

Let me be clear that,
for the record,

you're speaking in metaphor.

If it makes you feel better.

I'll get an injunction
filed right away

to stop him from shopping it.

It's a work for hire.
He has no legal leg to stand on.

But what about the optics
of Mike taking legal action

against a former employee
in this pro-worker environment?

If we don't, we run the risk
of losing the tech, full stop.

Say what you're
really worried about.

Reputation. Yours.
Which is of

particular importance
right now. But also mine.

If it becomes public that
in my early days at the helm,

someone disrespected me
like this...

I'd rather do this quietly.

You talking
about reputation or ego?

In this case,
there's no difference.

I'm tied up in this
shit too, now, since he was,

for a minute,
also my employee.

I'll own my mistakes,
but give us a minute

to make this thing right.

I'm willing to gamble
and give you a minute,

but not much more.

Greed or fear,
which will you appeal?

You really want to know?

You have 48 hours, then Kate
files the injunction.

I feel obliged to tell you
that you are gambling

like Phil Mickelson
pressing a Nassau.

It's 48 hours, Kate.

And like Lefty,
I can usually make the shot.

I'm not only talking about this.

Ah, you delivered the Super PAC
filing to the SDNY.

Yes. But I have a...

low confidence interval
on the plan succeeding.

Why's that?

Chuck's always been as smart
as you, me, whomever else.

In the past, his emotions
have allowed him to forget that.

But I just... don't know
that's where we are now.

Thanks.

Okay.

- That case did it for me.
- Hmm.

Like reading a Penthouse Forum
in days of yore.

Creative application of RICO.

Real teeth there.
Instant headlines.

Maybe not the kind we want.
Um...

Didn't feel like
lightning to me.

What's so distracting?

Prince Super PAC filing

with the Federal
Election Commission.

Anything juicy?

Don't get

waylaid with this right now.

Let's make some cases.

You know it.

Amanda Torre, Securities Unit.

When I get face time
with the bosses,

I'm not bringing any weak shit.

Oh. We speaking
our thoughts aloud, Ms. Torre?

No, what I'm bringing you
is a fog-cutter,

a case that's going to
make noise in the press.

One that's precedent-setting,

with a high-profile target
for a bad guy

and victims you can
really pull for.

Oh, and one with
a clear road to victory.

Anything less,
and I'm wasting your time.

-Quite the wish list.
-Wish granted. Here you go.

Pump-and-dump scheme.

Wolf of Wall Street
lead broker. Scuzzy lawyers.

-Working people defrauded.
-She's playing all the hits.

My SEC contact is ready
to formalise a complaint.

The FBI and I
turned one of his traders

like she was Adriana La Cerva.

Well, keep her going, then.

Come back
when you really have him.

Right now, feels thin.

I'm sorry, um...

what feels thin about this?

Can I get some guidance, or--

Uh, where were you when He laid
the foundation of the earth?

The fuck does that mean?

Not to us
to question the exalted.

Come on, I'll tell
you some war stories.

I know the first prosecution
has a lot riding on it,

but we've gotta
break the seal at some point.

One should make his decisions

within the space
of seven breaths.

So I did.

Gandhi?

Uh, Book of the Samurai.

Well... perfect

is the enemy of the good.
Does it say that in there?

We had a stack of winners,

and that was before
Ms. Torre walked in.

And she was spittin' truth.

So, what more are we
looking for? Clue me in here.

80 and 0, buddy.

That was the
personal record at one point.

And I got it
by picking the winners,

not betting
the swayback nags.

I know what I'm doing.

You sure that's all it is?

There was once an aura
amongst federal prosecutors,

something noble and untouchable.

It made them king-like
in their ability

to either indict
or refuse to charge.

Now my record earned me
a part of that,

until I made some... missteps.

But I'm gonna get it back.

For the very honour of the job.

You brought the honour back

the moment you walked
into the office again.

I like the office.
I can do something from it.

So I can't be rash.
And I can't be emotional.

And I have to pick my spots.

You didn't ask me
to work by your side

so I'd say
nice things to you,

but I'm gonna do it anyway.

You're the best prosecutor
ever sat this office

because you used both your
intellect and your emotions.

That's why you were
80 and 0.

This is a moment to take risks.
You are beloved.

That's the one thing you didn't
have last time. Use it.

So you don't lose it.

Okay, I hear you.

But that doesn't mean
I can listen to you.

Not yet.

Let me in on
curb-stomping Winston.

Philip and I will handle it.

My schedule's light, and this
is just my kind of mission.

We got it. Thanks.

What's with you?

-Nothing.
-Nah.

I saw the way you reacted
to what Winston did.

It wasn't anger in those eyes.
It was sadness.

Can't I be both?

You steep that any longer,
you may as well suck the bag.

Plus, you don't drink
herbal tea.

Minor fucking detail.

Though I might as well start.

That's what obsolete
pensioners do, isn't it?

Drink tea, stare into space,
and decompose.

Mother's milk.

Better than a spot of
zen-relax tea?

It was a fucking eulogy, Wend.

Attending my own funeral.

The whole cast of Liar's Poker
dancing on my grave.

It would've been
a lot more fun

if I had gotten to fake
my own death first.

This is when you throw me
some magic

that unlocks everything.

Maybe my magic
isn't what you need.

Maybe you need to see...
someone.

A different kind of
professional.

I've given that up.
For the time being.

So you're just a man
searching for his next act.

I'm not looking for a next act.
I want to go back in time.

You're still
the same person, Wags.

It's the circumstances
around you that have changed.

The kind of theatrical moves
those guys are talking about,

that's in your bones.

You just need to find
an opportunity

that'll activate
that muscle memory.

And don't wait for permission.

Yes, inject that magic
into my veins.

When I was talking about
a "professional" before,

I meant... therapist.

A real... therapist.

Oh, you heard
about Dr. Mayer, then.

Don't... tell me
you're seeing her too.

I assure you, I prefer
those depths unplunged.

Unless by you, of course.

Appreciate that.

So, do you know what
this chick is all about?

Why they're all
so obsessed with her?

The Wendy Rhoades I know

does not speculate
or rely on hearsay.

She dives as deep as
the fucking Mariana Trench

until she finds the truth among
the supergiants at the bottom.

You want to know what this
knock-off Melfi is about...

go find out.

And I think you know
there is nothing anyone

could Freudian slip
into my drink

that'll change
the fact that you...

will always be my Dr. Mojo.

Sir?

Ms. Torre, once
I pass on a case,

I don't reconsider it

unless there's been some
material change.

So, if that's not what
you're here to tell me...

This isn't my case.

This is Michael Prince's
Super PAC filing.

Deputy Schirmer gave it to me,

said you wanted me
to take a look.

Yeah, good, great.
And, uh, what did you learn?

Potential violation
of 52 USC 30121.

The foreign donor ban.

He wouldn't do something
that obvious.

Mm, not sure and not obvious.

There was an LLC that donated
called North Country.

The name caught my eye,
so I ran the CEO.

He appears to be
a Canadian citizen.

You interested
in preparing charges?

Leave what you have,
I'll-I'll give it a look.

For the record, the case
I pitched is a stone winner.

Been saving this one
for a special occasion--

Ahh!

Your return to the seat
of power.

Applejack?

You stopped at the joint
in the corner on your way up.

It's what they had.

And the thought that counts.

You want to drink it or not?

What a sight you are, Charles.

The man back
in his natural habitat.

Burning the midnight oil.

Please regale me
with your first move.

Nothing I'm ready to share,
I'm afraid.

Don't be modest, sonny.

You're sitting on something
bold and undeniable, I'm sure.

Mm.

What did Ira tell you?

Ah, just that
you're limp as a noodle.

Well, he said gun-shy,
but I'm translating.

Oh, that's helpful. Thank you.

-Whoa.
-Ohh.

Did you know...

that I stayed faithful
to your mother...

for five months
after Kevin was born?

Would you like
an award for that?

No...

I'm trying to tell you
I can relate.

When I became a grandfather,

I vowed to become
an upright man,

an example for my grandson.

God, those months
felt like years.

I'd lay awake in bed next to her
every night, restless.

Nothing spoils the spirit
like rote sexual congress.

Dad!

I knew I'd die
if I kept on like that,

yet I wasn't ready for divorce.

But when it came to the idea
of a new assignation...

the adrenaline rush

was-was almost sickening.

It was like an Acapulco diver
on top of a cliff,

trying to... to time the waves
so that I didn't go splat.

I was utterly frozen.

Until...

I attended the opening
of Bedminster Golf Club.

Did you ever
meet his first wife?

Oh, Jesus, Dad, you didn't.

That woman was an athlete.

We made the beast right on
the green of the second hole.

Which is all very ironic,

considering where she now lies
once again, rest in peace.

Okay, your story hardly
accounts for the risks I face

as delightful as it is to hear
you are groin cousins

-with the former Miss--
-The point is, sonny,

you gotta make the leap.

Because the rewards
are inestimable.

Sacker.

Kate. It's time
to go see Rhoades.

Try and prompt a reaction.
Get him following the scent.

- Should I bring the whole team?
-Sure. Good idea.

Bring whomever you think
will help get the job done.

You got it.

No need to hurry.
No need to sparkle.

No need to be anybody
but oneself.

It's good to see you,
Dr. Rhoades.

Make it Wendy.

Shall we do it here, or do you
have A Room of One's Own?

I've been expecting you.

I'm sure you have.

You rustle someone's cattle,
they're gonna come looking.

Was it the welcoming
literary patter

that helped you
snare my patients?

I didn't see your brand on them.
At first.

After talking to them,
the burns became more visible.

Uh-huh. You know...

I didn't...
come here to do this.

You've helped my people
quite a lot.

I wanted to thank you,

and to see if we could find...

a way to work in concert.
A harmony between our styles.

Surely you don't think we do
the same thing, Wendy.

We take different approaches,
but we're both psychiatrists.

Humour me, please.

How do you know
you're good at what you do?

I could say close
to 25 billion earned

and managed by my clients,

but I won't step into that trap.

My goals are aligned
with those of my patients.

They want--
they need-- to earn,

need to fight, need to win.

The money's just a symbol of
what we're working towards.

All of our shared patients,

they're all addicts.

What they need...

it's wrapped up
in a very complicated bundle

of compulsive behaviour
and purpose.

Your talent and insight,

you use it to disguise it
all as purpose,

to keep them
on a hamster wheel.

Well, certainly,
the wheel may get bigger,

but it's still...

essentially a prison.

So I'm their jailer?

I don't think any of them
would agree with that.

Fair.
But I can't help but think...

What if you used
all your ability

to free them instead?

It is no secret that
you are extraordinary, Wendy.

But I think you could be
even better.

I would like to
help you with that.

Thank you.
But I'm not in the market

for a performance coach.

I was suggesting therapy.

Isn't that why
you're here, really?

-Miss me already, huh?
-Not quite.

Please, take off your shoes.
Or stay on the marble.

Jesus, these carpets
are harder to clean

than a frat basement couch.

Bill us. We know about
WDE Risk Management.

People are already
talking about it, huh?

-It's gonna be huge.
-Not only did you

create the software
while at MPC,

meaning you're hawking property
stolen from Mike Prince,

but you trained it on data
from our traders.

You don't want this
to get messy with a lawsuit.

Surrender the code,
we can work out

a suitable position
for you at MPC.

Head of Risk Management, maybe?

I'm done working
for other people, thanks.

And I coded WDE after I left.

In the eight hours before
you started trying to sell it?

Kids work quick these days,
you know that.

That isn't going
to hold up in court.

Please. I used
an air-gapped computer,

so the code trail
supports my timeline.

I mean, I would've,
if I'd done it

while I was still at MPC.

But look, I'm a generous dude,
and we're friends.

So I'll license it to you for
only, like, $500,000 per month.

Plus two percent of profits.

Oh, come on, shoes!
Who's been putting out

their Kools on my floor?!

I told you we've got this, Wags.

I'm not asking permission.
Taylor, Philip,

back away
from the defendant.

Prince is moving
forward with the lawsuit.

This negotiation is
as useless as

a 20-year-old
lambskin rubber.

Like from a real lamb?

Get off me--

Do you think anyone on the
Street is gonna license software

under the absolute
mountain of legal caca

we're throwing your way?

Your product, along
with your bank accounts,

are gonna be frozen like
Ted Williams's fuckin' head!

I can't believe
Prince called you in.

-He promised us some time.
-He didn't call me in.

The lawsuit
hasn't been filed yet.

A bluff. What's the play?

You can't eradicate cockroaches

without scaring them
out of hiding.

Yeah, hi.
I need to talk to your COO.

I met with him yesterday.
We need to fast track

the software
licensing agreements,

or the offer's going away.

Do you think
anyone on the Street

is gonna license software

under the absolute
mountain of legal caca

we're throwing your way?

Your product, along
with your bank accounts,

are gonna be frozen like
Ted Williams's fuckin' head!

They had us wait in here
instead of in Chuck's office

so that they could
end the conversation

by walking out
whenever they want,

treating us like targets.

It's amazing the lessons
you choose to remember.

Oh, I remember all of them.
Deploy the most effective

and let the rest dangle.

Which are you deploying today?

We're here because
we have the same goal:

for my candidate to be
operating squeaky clean,

behind glass so clear,
it kills birds.

The PAC is just
that transparent.

We assume you've already
reviewed our FEC disclosure.

We're here to answer
any questions.

I guess it's
the "show up voluntarily

to appear innocent" lesson,
but our policy

is to ask questions
on our schedule, not yours.

Eh, no, I do have one, actually.
For all of them.

One I've asked Scooter before:

What's the going price for
one's soul these days? Hmm?

Well, a lesson from
my side of the street

is never answer
a hypothetical.

So, since I'm the guy
with no history here,

might I suggest we turn this
slightly professional.

Mr. Rhoades,
we sent over the documents

so you'd have
an opportunity to vet them.

That seemed the best way
for all parties to ensure

that an often dirty process
is as pure as Crater Lake.

Yes, well, the lake is pure
because it isn't

fed by any rivers and streams,

so there's no opportunity
for pollution--

the opposite of
a fucking Super PAC,

which tries to onboard as many

dirty streams of cash
as possible.

But...

I won't know the specifics
until I take a look.

And the fact is, I haven't
even had a chance yet.

-Really.
-Really.

It's what the man said.
It's what the man meant.

And when I do,
if I have questions,

you will be hearing from me.

That was an opportunity.

This is.

You know what
Amanda found in that filing.

-Let's hit 'em.
-This is not our shot at Prince.

What are you doing?

I'm being smart.
Restrained. Tactical.

Bullshit, buddy.
This is fear.

Oh, come on.
You saw them, baiting me.

They want me to find something,

for some reason not yet obvious.

But what is clear is that
all this would end, at minimum,

with egg on my face.

My dignity--
that, I will not lose.

Your dignity? Chuck,
this isn't just about you.

I'm sorry
I pulled you away

from the high-dollar chase.

You already miss it that much

you're ready to go back?

No. And it's not just about me.

There's an office
full of people out there

putting forth
their best efforts.

So that's on the line.
And their careers, too.

When they woke up to the news
that you were going to return,

they all told themselves

they were finally
gonna be able to do something.

They'd finally live up to
the essays

they wrote
to get into law school

because they'd finally
be working for a great man.

And I know this to be true.

Okay, so the only one
who needs to remember is you.

Hey.

If someone lusts
after you every day,

they probably
also make moves.

Maybe moves they shouldn't,

to impress, ingratiate, seduce?

Hopefully... illegal ones.

So, what were they?

I don't want Winston's

metaphorical death
on my conscience.

He was like
my annoying little brother.

I'm not gonna be a part of this.

Do you understand that
getting that software back

is the single most important
thing to MPC right now?

It's either him or us.

Okay.

He bragged about
some hacktivist stuff,

but I honestly didn't listen
when he talked most of the time.

He was probably just
making shit up to impress me.

Hm.

-But...
-But what?

Okay, I didn't ask him to do it.

But last May,
Winston hacked the DMV

to remove points from my license
when I was about to lose it.

How many points did you have?

I like to go fast.

That's my girl.

I gonna need the date and time
of that hack for my guy.

I sent some of our gang in
to talk to Chuck.

The theory being?

That he's coming for me.
I want to know from where.

-And now you do?
-I do not.

They said he seemed
different, muted.

Disinterested even.

Their instinct is
he's not coming.

Was that just a posture?
I'm not sure.

Could be he has other things
to focus on in his new job.

He wouldn't be alone in that.

You'd rather talk about
why I have a need to know,

why I'm engaged in that

instead of keeping my eyes
forward on my own business.

I don't want to get into
anything you don't want to.

And if I asked you to go in?

To talk to Chuck,

have a look for yourself,

see what's going on
and give me some guidance?

I'd say no way, bad idea.

Any more contact,
and he's going to start

believing there's
something there.

You don't want to convert
your search for intel

into motivation for him, do you?

I do not.

Good call.

Hm.

Here.

I figured
the one you had was old.

You should have a current one.

Yeah, well, the one I have,

they're much younger.
You're in it.

Thank you.

I heard some people from
the firm paid a visit today.

And yet, I didn't
like what I learned.

Anytime I hear Chuck Rhoades
is muted instead of pugnacious,

it's cause for worry.

You don't worry, you dig.

Wh-what are you digging for now?

Nothing.

I just don't like
the cooled-off version of you.

Pot, kettle, Wend.
You've been frozen so long,

the very temperature of the room
drops when you walk in.

Did Prince send you?

He's not sweating
his disclosure.

Besides, if he had,
would I have come?

Am I some errand girl?

No, I suppose not.

Though I don't know
what you are.

I just hope whatever
you're doing here

works out okay
for them this time.

You got to the kid.

He called them all,
so we've got the list.

Two firms that he approached
yesterday, three today.

Deals are being drawn up.

He set a follow-up presentation
at his co-working space

with all five CEOs tomorrow.

Plan is to
ink the contracts there

before any lawsuits land on him.

Bravissimo, Hall.
And the coding signature?

Hell of a laundry list,
you were right.

That's the one.

You want to bury him like that?

Damn right.

This is the fucking shovel.

Now let's put on a show.

I don't regret keeping
them on the hamster wheel.

That's my job,

to keep personnel in place,
happy enough to deliver.

But I didn't choose
that wheel for myself.

And yet...

you want to know...

why you can't leave.

I want to know why I sometimes
feel like an errand girl.

I know I'm not, but...

Also, I kind of am.

I keep doing
other people's bidding.

You know, I can leave.

-It's just that I don't.
-Mm-hmm.

There's nothing stopping me,
contractual or financial.

I tell myself it's
the fate of those very people

that I'm keeping on the wheel,

and the fate of
a great many people beyond,

as well, that won't let me go.

So...

you're either an errand girl

or Christ-like in your desire
to serve the wastrels.

Feeling their pain.
Making it your own.

You salve them.

And ready them, again,

to put their souls in peril.

I... I don't know.

I just know you were right.

I can be more than this.

I have to be.

And I want to start that work.

That's wonderful.

I'll get you some referrals.

No, no. You break it,
you buy it, Eleanor.

- That's what you think?
- That I broke you?

No. I'm not gonna
give you that much credit. Yet.

But you did show me that
whatever it was I'm clinging to

to stay above water
is drowning me instead.

That's why it has to be you.

Having started
at odds like this,

it isn't ideal.

Neither is the human condition,
yet we continue to lump it.

I've already had a night, Karl.

What's so important
I had to haul it

all the way up to 122nd?

Ah!

So this is
an intervention, then.

That's why you brought me
to the final resting place

of Ulysses S. Grant.

To remind me that
the venerated Union general

stood tall
after the loss at Shiloh.

Right?

And what did
Lincoln say to those

calling for his removal?

"I can't spare this man;
he fights."

Yeah, where would we be
if Grant hadn't gone on

to fight at Chattanooga
and Vicksburg?

You hoped this would
awaken my fight.

But fighting is not my problem.

I am ready to fight.
I am not ready to lose.

Not again.

You're a great man.

But that isn't why
we've asked you to meet.

The reason's inside.

Well, that's
one hell of a twist.

Hey there, Chuck.

Well...

It's nice to meet you, sir.

Uh...

I've long held you
in admiration.

I hear you've got
a case of the yips, my man.

The yips.

Yeah, I wish it was the yips.

It's elemental. My next move
needs to be perfect.

I need a win.

I'm familiar with that pressure.

Well, you mastered it.

You learned to use
the pressure to serve you.

Your record's beyond compare.

Well, you know,
Coach Wooden said that

as long as you do
your personal best,

-you've won.
-And that worked for you?

For a while.

And then we made
a trip down to Houston

- to visit Mr. Hayes.
- That's understood.

And it destroyed your
perfect season.

-Must've been devastating.
-Yeah, I was rocked.

Yeah.

But that loss made me.

-Mm-hmm.
-It helped...

make me into the player
that I wanted to be.

-Yeah.
-And of course,

when the tournament came around,

it really made it sweet
to kick their asses.

Yeah, but...

the fear getting there.

I mean, how do you
keep that at bay?

I grew up in 1960s America
looking like this.

People wanted to kill me.

I've battled leukaemia,
open heart surgery,

cancer, fire, and racism.

You think I'd ever be afraid
of missing a damn skyhook

after all of that?

I do not imagine you would. No.

Yeah. Right.

Chuck...

people like us keep after it

because we know

it's a crime
to waste what we have.

If we don't take the shot...

who the hell else will?

This is why you need...

WDE.

Wait. What are you doing here?

We heard there was
gonna be a show.

Winston, This is Your Life.

The fuck?
You hijacked my presentation--

You were born in 1989

in Ardsley, New York,
to parents Freddie and Carlene.

Excelled in school.
Then to MIT,

where you had your first
and only girlfriend.

But she dumped you.
I wonder why that was.

- I...
- Perhaps

your internet search history
has the answers.

Also while in Beantown,

you hacked the College Board
to change the SAT scores

of Boston Latin students.

You're so good,
Winston. Do you know that?

So singular in your talent

that your coding signature
is unique.

Immediately identifiable.

- Oh, fuck!
- That's right!

And we found that
it's been used to hack

several government agencies.

This includes a NATO breach

in which a gigabyte
of classified information

was stolen and posted online
to prove NATO's vulnerabilities.

Heroic in some lights,

but fucking illegal
in all others.

That attack was attributed to
the group which you, Winston,

have been part of
for at least a decade.

I-- Where did you get this?

Rian rolled on your ass.

Kid...

I know how it feels to have
your purpose

sucked out from beneath you.

But let us point
to the road back.

You will surrender
the software immediately,

as it is the property of
Michael Prince Capital,

or all this goes very,
very public. Like, FBI public.

But cooperate,
and MPC will license

a lesser version to
the rest of the Street.

Keeping the best for us,
of course.

And you can run it.

I think that's
the better choice.

That isn't a real choice.

Isn't pretending
beneath you, Taylor?

You're right.
There is no choice.

You have five minutes
before your customers

start arriving for the pitch.

So... pull yourself together,
DocuSign,

and pitch the shit out of them,
or we have calls to make.

Oh, and we've renamed it.
Trojan Defence.

Winston Dick Energy
is a name only a man

with a very, very, small
energy source would choose.

It's... around
the national average.

Utterly brutal, Wags.
I mean that as a compliment.

Wouldn't take it any other way.

And please, spread this tale
far and wide.

To anyone who will listen.

Time to send a message.

The PAC is, as we said,
likely a misdirect.

All signs point to him
self-funding.

Mm. But let's open an
investigation on Michael Prince

for conspiring to violate
the ban on foreign donations

and contributions in connection

with federal
and state elections.

Use it as cover
to find another way in.

He needs to think he's got me
running in the wrong direction.

It will be done.

-Our boy is back.
-Beautiful thing.

When last we spoke,

I said I didn't want to get
into anything that you didn't.

But if you don't want
to get into something,

that's exactly
where I need to take you.

Otherwise, I'm failing you.

And I'm sorry
I did that before.

Understood. Thank you.

Chuck Rhoades is charging us
for violations on the Super PAC.

Good. Good.

Do we have the CEO's
citizenship paperwork in hand?

We do. Granted the same day
as the donation,

so it's not even
in the system yet.

Game on, then.

Nothing for him
at the end of that road.

What are all these?

Cases that are winners
but don't matter.

A once-vaunted lawman
called prosecutors

that only go after these, quote,

"members of
the chickenshit club."

Not a club I want to join.

Not one you'll have to

because we are going
after the ones that do matter,

starting with your
pump-and-dump case.

-You ready?
-More than.

You know, there's something
you'll have to learn

going after the important ones:

really fucking
hurts to lose.

Chips away pieces of you
each time.

Pieces you don't get back.

And it leaves you with no
choice but to...

go forward incomplete.

But, what, you're
all the better for it?

Stronger and whatnot?

No.

You just go forward
like that, missing pieces.

Because that's
the way you are now

and there's no other choice.

- Fuck.
- Mm-hmm.

But that's not something
to worry about today.

Because before all that
stuff-of-life happens,

we are gonna
win cases aplenty.

I goddamn guarantee you that.

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