All language subtitles for Breakout Kings S01E05 Queen Of Hearts 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DD+5 1 x264-Cinefeel_track3_[eng]

LILAH:
Smile, okay?

Everything's going to be fine.

Smile, okay?
Everything's gonna be fine.

GUARD (distant):
Open on 35.
Smile.

Okay? Everything's
going to be fine.

VAUGHAN:
Lilah.

Warden wants
to see you.

Let's go.

Move your ass.

(lock buzzes)

(both giggle)

Did you bring it, baby?

VAUGHAN:
Hell yes.

(Lilah laughs)

Don't go anywhere.

I wouldn't
dream of it.

I could barely sleep last night.

I like the sound of that.

VAUGHAN: Boy, was I looking
forward to coming to work today.

LILAH:
Almost ready...

VAUGHAN: Hot damn.

I think I'm gonna
need a ruler.

Oh.
(cell phone rings)

Hmm.

Where the hell did
you get that from?

Another friend.

That's my son.
Yeah.

And if you want to see him
outside of a pine box,

I need to be in town
in a half hour.

Try me, Eddie.

Even if I wanted to,
how in the hell...

Well, I've already
thought of that.

There's a Scared
Straight program

over at the visiting block.

It ends in ten minutes.
Let's go.

Move your ass.

GUARD (over P.A.):
Everyone on the bus.

Let's go. Come on, ladies.

Eventually you're going
to get caught, Lilah.

I am going to have
a drink in my hand

and my toes in the sand,
that's what's going to happen.

Don't worry, I'll
send you a postcard.

Now, go keep those other guards
busy, or your kid's toast.

ADMINISTRATOR:
Is that everybody?

Excuse me,
and you are...?

Get me into town.
Any problems,

and I'll stick you
like a pig.

Smile. Okay?

Everything's gonna be fine.

ADMINISTRATOR:
She's with me.
Fire it up.

LLOYD:
The women had their
right breasts

cut off. It's from
Greek mythology --

Am-a-zos:
"without breasts."

They had it removed
to better facilitate

shooting a bow and arrow.
That is how

the female warriors
got their name,

not because

they lived in
the Amazon jungle...

you child.

Call.

Three queens.

(roars in slow motion)

(imitates blade slicing,
flipping through air)

What a dick.

SHEA:
Lloyd.
Yes.

Let's go. Our work release
van is leaving.

LLOYD: Just pop it into
neutral, there, Slick.

Daddy needs to fill his pockets.

Full house.

Threes and twos.

Jinx.

You are a jinx, man!
Van's leaving.
Come on.

All right, gentlemen.

(clears throat)
You heard the man.

I will see you around the
gaming tables. I have to go.

Hey. Hey.
What?

I want my money.

Amen to that, brother.
And I will absolutely pay you.

You been serving that
horseradish for two weeks now.

I want it tonight,
in my prison account.

Or I'm going to kill you.

Whoa. Whoa, man, that...

sounds an awful lot like
a maximum security threat,

and last I checked, we are in

a decidedly minimum
security establishment.

I will drive myself
back to a max house

before I let a mouthy-ass
white boy disrespect me.

How the hell did you
get into Maybelle, man?

I found Jesus.

Oh.

Oh! Well, was it
not Luke who said,

"But love thy enemy,
be good to him,

and lend him without
expecting..."

Luke don't owe
me 800 bucks.

Dead.

CHARLIE:
Lilah Tompkins was five years
into a 25-year

mandatory minimum for killing
her second husband.

She stabbed him 48 times.

First husband got killed
in a house fire

which she was a suspect in,
but never convicted of.

ZANCANELLI: This woman is
extremely dangerous.

Jules, pull up her
visitation log.

Already put in a request.

Our only lifeline's her
14-year-old son,

who's currently in
foster care in New Jersey.

The FBI's at the family's
house just in case Lilah tries

to reach out to him.
Says here Lilah was, uh,
raised in foster care

herself from age 12 on.

How'd she get out of Bixell?

Threatened a guard's son.

Turned out to be a bluff--
she never even had the kid.

Guard's on his way in.

Lloyd. Pay attention?
I am.

Okay. How old's
the runner's daughter?

She is three.

It's a son, and he's 14.

CHARLIE:
Pay attention!
Noted.

My old cellie finished her time
at Bixell. She's out now, but,

she'd give me whatever scoop
she's got on this Lilah chick.

Would you call her
for us, please?

Eddie Vaughan?
Yeah.

Lilah's property.

CHARLIE:
Could you step
over here, please?

(phone ringing)
Thanks for coming by.
Ray?

Ray?

Yeah.
It's Teresa.

Tell her I'll call her back.

Who's Teresa?

Don't worry about it.

Okay, listen up.
This convicted killer

has four hours on us.
Can we step it up?

(whistles)

Hey, you-you, uh, saw
that card game, right?

There were some world-class
cheaters at that table, man.

What do you want?

I got zoomed.
Okay, I got taken.

That born-again thug, who is
apparently a complete fraud,

he said that if I don't pay him
$800, he's going to cap my ass.

Mm... mm...

So I was...

I was wondering if maybe

you could, like...

jack him up, or...

you know, I don't know,
like...

get him to recognize...

Okay. This is what I'm
going to do for you.
Okay.

Zero.

You're on your own.

Thanks.

ZANCANELLI:
You weren't banging Lilah.

Nope. I'm telling you,
I brought that outfit in

because she threatened
my family.

I don't know, Eddie,
it's just...

A "sexy teacher outfit"

seems like an odd request.
VAUGHAN: Yeah.

The answer is no, okay?
Look, I'm a married man.

I take my job serious, so
how 'bout you stop asking me

that question?
All right, relax.

So, uh...
any nicknames that the female

inmates at Bixell called you?

None that I know of.

"Ponytail Holder"?
Doesn't ring a bell?

Guards get called names,

that's all part
of the job.
Right.

All right, well,
we're not investigating

possible sexual misconduct
between guards and inmates

at Bixell Penitentiary...
yet.

So why don't you
get straight with us

about Lilah, and if
you do, guess what?

You never have to
talk to us again, dummy.

My wife has been going
through some health things.

We haven't been intimate...
Look.

The teacher's outfit.

You brought that in
voluntarily, true or false?

Yeah, but I sure
as hell didn't know

she was going to
use it to escape.

Did you give her
the cell phone?
No, another "friend"

gave it to her,
that's what she said.

And how did she get
a photo of your son?

I swear to God I don't know.

Who else was in her life?

I don't...

Maybe this one guy... I...

There were a lot of
lawyers visiting her,

trying to get her
conviction overturned,

or that's who Lilah
said they were.

Then, one day, I seen her
kiss this guy on the mouth.

So I look into him.

Name is Lucas Harold. Some loser
who manages a go-cart track

out in Hempstead.
Any pillow talk about what she'd
want to do if she ever got out?

No.
She never mentioned
going to see her kid?

No, she never talked about it.

When I walked her out,

she said that she was going
to be on a beach real soon,

drinking a cocktail.

And that she'd
send me a postcard.

JULIANNE:
Lilah subscribed to two
travel magazines,

and had a travel guide
to the Caribbean.

ZANCANELLI:
Let's go, let's go.
Okay, Port Authority,

train stations,
airports, cruise ships,

make sure you send her mug shot
to ever single one of them.

Also send it out to every
U.S. Embassy in every country

that has a beach on it.
And, uh...

go through the travel mags.
See if there are

any pages that have been
dog-eared, torn out--

just go through all of 'em.

Hey, those kids up there
on the track.

LLOYD:
There's something off
with their body language.

Two teen males?
Yeah, yeah. They're
hiding something.

I should probably go
poke around a skosh, huh?

Yeah. Erica,
go with him.

CHARLIE:
Lucas Harold?

Yeah.
US Marshals.

When's the last time you
heard from Lilah Tompkins?

Why?

Something happen
to Lilah?

I-I mean you wouldn't
be here unless...

She escaped from Bixell
six hours ago.

Holy crow.
Well, is she okay?

Relax, we're looking
for her now.

Holy crow.

How do you know her?
Well...

We met through this
prison pen pal program.

We're in love.

SHEA: In love?!
(snickers)

My bad.

What is up,
young bloods?
Hey.

About to take
a couple lap-arooskis

around the old track?

Yeah.

You want to put a little
wager on it, man?

How much?
800 bucks.

Dude, what?
700 bucks.

What?
Are you trying
to screw this up?

I owe money back at Maybelle,
and if I don't come up

with it I'm dead.
And this is your problem,

too, because remember,
if any one of us screws up,

we all go back,
sentences doubled.

No, I'm pretty sure it's if
one of us tries to escape,

we all get sent back.

There's nothing about getting
killed over prison debts.

(cell phone rings)

That better be
work-related.

Mother. Where have you been?

Did you buy her a car?

No.
A house?

No.
Vacation spot?

No. Look, I-I manage
a go-cart track, sir.

It's not like I have,
you know, vacation property.

You give money to
one of her relatives?

No.
Did you share
a bank account?

(sighs)

Yes or no?
Yes.

Can you access
that bank account from here?

Of course.

(typing)

Really, I think
it makes perfect sense.

You have money. You're aged.
You don't need it.

I don't have money. I'm young.

I freakin' need it, Mom.

Why don't you sell
your comic book collection?

Oh, you're obviously soused now.

I'm not.
Really? Then prove it.

Count backwards from a hundred.

Take responsibility , Lloyd.
Just do it.

(click, dial tone)
Mm...

(typing)

Ouch! Eight grand!

I really thought she loved me.

Okay, Julianne, thanks.
Can you text me the address?

So Lilah drained
this guy's bank account

from a branch at a mall
up in Valley Stream

about 20 minutes
from here.

Anything with the kids
out there?

Goose egg.

All right, let's go.
Thank you.

(cash register
beeping, clicking)

Marry me.

Baby!

(laughs)

Oh, you just made me the
happiest girl in the world.

That's so sweet.

We've got
to call my mom.

She's gonna be so happy for us--

and surprised.

She never thought
I was gonna amount
to anything.

She's gonna be
so happy for us.

Thank you.

Congratulations!

Hey.
May I help you?

Yeah. This woman withdrew
some money from the bank

at the other end of the mall.
Have you seen her?

No, I haven't,
sorry.

How much if I run a game
of eight-ball on that table?

How much money?

No, jockstraps.
Yes, how much money?

I'll do it twice.
I will do it twice in a row.

Sir, this is a store.

There's no gambling
allowed in the store.

Whatever.

May I help you?

Hey, how you doing? Um...

did you see
this woman here today?

I mean, did this woman
happen to come...

Sir?

Sir?
Hmm?

She was here.

We should give a heads up
to local motels

'cause, judging from
the gear she bought,

they're about to get to it.

Anything on the guy

she was with?
Oh, heavyset.
Other than that,

she didn't really
notice him.

You guys, I'm now convinced

that Lilah has Narcissistic
Personality Disorder,

subtype Manipulative Narcissist.

Grandiose, expects deference
from others,

usually rooted in their defense
as a child

against a cold and unsympathetic
parent. It's textbook.

Okay, somebody say it, please.

You just
described yourself, Lloyd.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

You guys done playing grab ass,

or do you want to get
your heads in the game? Thanks.

Charlie, it's tough
for me to pin down

what her actual plan is.

It could be a quick tryst
at a motel,

'cause I doubt
she'd be settling down

with another dupe
unless that dupe is the guy

that's gonna get her
to the beach for that cocktail.

Time of purchase on the receipt
said 45 minutes ago.

She could
be anywhere by now.

You know, maybe they hung

around a bit
after they bought that stuff.

I tell you what,
I'll just go back and ask.

Maybe not, Shea.

Lilah and the guy
she was with shopped

at a couple
stores down.

They bought 250 bucks
in merchandise.

All clothing
for a teen male.

For her son.

U.S. Marshals.

Must be happy hour.

What are you doing here, dingus?
We own this fugitive.

Not if she crosses
state lines to
see her kid.

In which case,
we'll take the collar.

The question is, what the hell
are you doing here, Ray?

Working. What do you think
I'm doing, genius?

Right.
It's the "Use a fugitive

to catch a fugitive" deal.
I thought that was a bad rumor.

We're here to talk
to her son Taylor.

Lilah was recently buying
clothes for a teenage boy.

Yeah, well...
Ah-ah. The kid has

not been in contact with Lilah,
if that's what you're here for.

You could have called
and found out.

No offense, but we're
gonna ask ourselves.

And you might want
to lower that hand

or I can lower it for you.

Foster parents' names are
Derek and Kitty.

Thank you.

Wow. What a crew.

That's a whole lot
of bluster there, buddy.

You sure you're not
overcompensating
for something?

You want to find out?

Mm, mm, mm.

How often do you see
your mom, Taylor?

Once a year,
on her birthday.

Phone calls?

Once a year,
on my birthday.

We've told Lilah
she's welcome

to call as much
as she wants, but...

Have either of you been in
contact with her recently?

No. But we recently moved

to terminate
Lilah's parental rights

and officially adopt Taylor.

You're thinking that
could've been the trigger

to make her want
to escape?

It's hard to say.
Are you daft?

Of course it's
the trigger.

It's all about winning
and losing with this woman.

And I guarantee you--
We get it, really.

Taylor, your mom might try
to contact you.

If she does,
I'll let you know.

Just as long
as you don't hurt her.

We promise.

We'll try our best.

Folks, if it's okay,
I'd like to talk

to Taylor in private.
Sorry.

There's a phenomenon known
as the Attachment Theory,

which is basically
what it sounds like.

In fact, I can't believe
the guy got published

coining a term that
self-evident.

But the point is that children
can forgive

and look past a lot when
it comes to their parent.

Even if that
parent is a

very, very imbalanced mother.

How old are you?
Fourteen.

Okay, when I was your age,

my mother used
to duct tape oven
mitts to my hands

at night to keep me
from masturbating.

Which was such a violation,
and it didn't work, by the way,

and I started to harbor

a lot of resentment,
yet here I am

still making excuses for her.

Why are you telling me this?

Because I don't believe you

when you say you'll notify us
if your mom contacts you.

Hey, I empathize.
But Taylor, you have to know

there's a price you pay for
covering for an unfit mom:

it's your own self-worth.

You seem like a
well-adjusted young man

with good moral development.

Don't let your mom
wring that out of you

'cause of her mistakes, okay?

Here's my cell number,
if you want to talk.

The original Sandman.

Nice.

I've been there, okay?

LILAH:
Oh, my God, it's so good
to finally see you, Jeff.

Mm...

Dreams really do
come true. (chuckles)

I got a call from someone
with the U.S. Marshals.

They want me
to come in to talk.

Well, we expected
that, right?

Just tell them
you visited me in prison

and that's it.

Do you have
everything, baby?

I just, I just
don't understand

why you need all this when
you could just stay with me.

Well, I am going
to stay with you, baby,

for the rest of my life.

First, I need to
take care of a few things.

I'm gonna need
the car back tomorrow.

Well, I'm gonna need
it longer than that.

I really need it back tomorrow,
sweetheart.

Do you want me
to get caught, Jeff?

It's just...
Do you?!

Of course not.

Well, it sure as hell
sounds like it.

When I do, maybe I'll
have to tell the cops

that you provided these things
to me. Do you want that?

No.

Well, quit trying
to ruin everything.

You'll see me
when you see me.

I'm just warning you that
I will not lie to the police,

so when they do talk to me--

Wrong answer.
(gunshot)

Please, no... no...

(engine starts)

Good afternoon.

Afternoon?

Uh, these were five

of Lilah's repeat visitors in
prison the last two months.

Uh, I have calls in to four
others, but no word back yet.

Turns out Lilah was

an active pen pal-er.

Uh, another trait of
the manipulative narcissist?

They love getting things
over on people.

Did we get the mug shot out?
We missing anything?

Yes. Uh, yes, it-it is out.

No, we're not missing anything.

Milt Langley?
Yeah.

Follow us.

What do we have here?

A little rebel fetish,
you guys, huh?

Bunch of dream lovers using
fantasy projection to wish away

reality, huh? Grabbing
on the only chance to

control a relationship because
the inmate needs you more

than you need them?
Sound about right, maybe?

(grunts)
Leave 'em alone.

Oh, they're fine.
It's not just pen pal-ers.

Same dynamic
and attributes apply

to all the millions
of losers in chat rooms

around the world.
It's very common.

She should never have been
in prison to begin with.

Her jerk of a husband
was abusive, and

Lilah was a battered woman

who got out the only way
she knew how.

By stabbing him 48 times?

Looks like she's good for
the body we found in the park.

Another one of the
schmucks who loved her.

Or how about her
first husband,

who she turned
into a crispy critter one night?

Come on, man. Wake up!

When was the last time
you saw her?

Two weeks ago.

She broke up with me.

For no reason.

She didn't try
to contact you today?

No.

I really thought
we were in love.

CHARLIE:
So, we'll be in touch, Milton.

Okay.
All right.

Help you?

Gabe Prescott.

I got a call to report here.

That's right.
This way, Gabe.

Gabe?

Let's go.

Rebel fetish isn't
the only fetish

that draws men
to female inmates.

I think I need to listen
to this interview.

CHARLIE:
So, Gabe, how'd you know...?

I'm not telling you anything.

This guy don't
want to talk.

I guess he's free
to go, right?

Sit your ass down.

Were you with her at the
Valley Stream mall today?

Perhaps I was.
That's not a crime.

Did you take a photo
of that guard's kid

and text it to her in prison?

I took a photo of a kid.

I didn't know what
she wanted it for.

And again, not a crime.

Okay, look, Gabe,

all we need is either
Lilah's location,

or the phone number to the
cell she has on her. That's it.

You give us that, and
you can leave right now.

Go back to your mother's
basement where you can go play

air guitar, or whatever
else you play with.

I don't know where she is,
and you're never gonna find her.

We want the cell phone number.

GABE:
I can't remember it.

Okay, he's defending Lilah
out of some version

of Stockholm Syndrome,
which indicates

that she threatened his life
at some point.

Wrong. Jules, I may need
to borrow a few things.

CHARLIE:
Listen, Gabe,

do you really want to play
Prince Valiant right now?

Aiding and abetting the
escape of a convicted felon

carries ten years mandatory.

She told me
that she was released

on her own recognizance.

I had no reason
not to believe her.

Naive?

Maybe. But not a crime.

You see those other guys

out there staring
at the floor, Gabe?

They pen pal-ed with her, too.

You got played.

I have nothing else
to say to you.

(chair clattering)
Where is she?

(door opens)

ERICA:
Take a walk.

Excuse me?

Go.

I'll tell you the same thing...

Did I give you permission
to speak?

No.

Then apologize.

(over speaker):
I am not going to ask you again.

(blow thuds, Gabe grunts)

Oh, shit!

I'm sorry.

We both know that one
of the foundations of

a slave-mistress
relationship is trust.

And discretion.

Lilah's prison jacket
has her listed

at five foot two, 115 pounds?

There is no reason

she would be buying
extra large underwear

at that lingerie
store, is there?

No.

(smacks lips)

So, I am going

to show discretion
and earn your trust by not

announcing to my coworkers
and yours

that you are currently wearing
a pair of pink lace panties

under your jeans.

Do I get a thank you for that?

Thank you.

Thank you, what?

Thank you... Mistress.

ZANCANELLI:
Get your hands out
of your pockets, Lloyd.

(Erica sighs sensuously)

(smacks lips)

They're dirty.

I detest dirty boots.

(inhaling deeply)

Oh.
Uh, uh, uh,
uh, uh.

First things first.

Nice work...
Mistress.

That is Lilah's
cell number.

Thanks for the loaner.

Oh, you can keep 'em.
Keep 'em.

Keep 'em.

A half hour.
Half hour?

How long does it take CPA
to trace phone activity?
Half hour?

Okay, look, she's
already got ten hours on us.

We're losing time.
Uh, what haven't we thought of?

Think outside the box.
We need a lead, Jules.

We need a lead!
We need a lead!

(scoffs)
(phone ringing)

Hey, Teresa.

Aw, thank you, baby.

Here now?

Tell me you have something, Ray.

Um, actually,
that was my daughter.

She's downstairs.

Everything okay?
Yeah.

Yeah, fine. I just don't get
to see her as much as I'd like.

You know, her mom is a bit
of a pill when it comes to that.

So, um...
I guess I gotta ask

if I could go down there
for five minutes.

Of course, Ray.

No sweat, man.

Mother, I am sorry, okay?
Just... (kissing)

There's a bunch
of kisses for you.

Just call me back, okay?

Hey.

(clears throat)

Um, hey, how did you read
that Prescott guy like that?

And just don't be
coy, just tell me.

The pink undies peeking out
of his pants was a good start.

Oh, yeah.

But I can usually tell what
a guy's into, regardless.

It's all in the eyes.

Really? Wh-What--
What am I into then?

Mm. Whatever you can get.

You're desperate.

Yeah, you're good.
You're really good.

So that guy in there--
he's kind of like

your-your
"bee-yotch," right?

I guess.

Okay, so how about you get
your classy chassis in there

and you command him
to give me 800 bucks?

(scoffs)

Your prison debt
is not my problem.

Erica, he is going to kill me.

Oh, stop being so dramatic.
What did he actually say?

"I am going to kill you."

That ain't good.

(TV playing indistinctly)

Hey.

Tough man to get
a hold of today.

Ah, how you doing, angel?
Good.

Good to see you.

You, too.

Happy birthday.

Oh, thank you.

Look at that.

Is your office doing anything
special for you today?

Yeah, they're blowing up
balloons as we speak.

But it's going okay?

Yeah, I'm actually working
a case right now.

That's why
I can't stay too long.

So you're on track
to be a marshal again?

Maybe. If the stars line up.

How long do you think
you'll be at the halfway house?

Hopefully,
not too much longer.

Why can't I visit
you there?
Too many lowlifes.

Well, why can't I
at least see your office?

Too many lowlifes.

Hey, hey, listen.

It's okay, really.

I'm just trying
to get it all back.

But sometimes
I don't feel like I...

I deserve to get it back,

with taking the money
and all, you know?

But you do
deserve it, Dad.

No, all I know
for sure is... I got you.

And believe me
when I tell you,

that's all I give a damn about.

Charlie?

Call history came in
on Lilah's phone.

Anything?
Uh, yeah.

You're not gonna believe
who she's been in contact with.

Oh, man.

Don't worry
about that stuff.

What do you want?

Feedback came in
on Lilah's cell phone.

We're heading there now.
How's it going?

Hi, I'm Teresa,
Ray's daughter.

Got to go, Ray.

Yeah, hold up a sec.

Thank you for the cake.

Okay.

So, I'll talk
to you soon?
Definitely.

Come here.

Don't ever do that.

I don't want cons
around my family.
Hey, you left

your cell phone on your desk,
and Charlie told me to...

Did you hear
what I said?

Did you hear what I said?

Whatever, boss.

(knocking)

Where's the kid?
He's upstairs
taking a nap.

He's not feeling
too well.

What the hell's
going on?

He's been in communication
with his mom.

Great. Good job, Stoltz.

She got what she wanted.

Now there's no
move to anticipate.

Our job just got
ten times harder.
We didn't

have the kid under house arrest.
We're just here to protect him.

This is
protecting him?!

You better take it down
a peg, Zancanelli.

I only take heat
from a real marshal.

CHARLIE:
Enough!

When was the last
time you saw him?

Half hour ago.
Let's go.

(sighs)

Thank you, Jules.

No signal on either phone.

She must have pulled out
the batteries.

All right,
what do we already know?

Lilah used three guys to
get to where she is now.

If I had unlimited women
on the outside,

I wouldn't stop using them,
especially now.

She's got her son, she needs
to build a nest somewhere.

Why not get some sucker
to pay for it?

Is the kid in there, Lloyd?

Just browsing.

(ringtone playing)

What you got, Jules?

Lucas Harold, the go-kart guy--
um, nothing from him.

Gabe Prescott,
the guy who licked my boots--

uh, nothing, really,
in terms of property.

Hold on.

Okay, the first guy
you interviewed, Milt Langley--

he owns rental properties
throughout Jersey.

Maybe him?
ZANCANELLI:
No, we talked to him.

He says she broke it off
with him.

He seemed believable.

Maybe we were wrong.

(pounding on door,
ringing doorbell)

(pounding continues)

Hey, baby!

My son, Taylor.

Taylor, say hi.

Shake the man's hand.

Hi.
Hi.

There you go.

Say, did the
police contact you?

Uh, yeah,
U.S. Marshals did.

And?

Well, I told them
I didn't know where you were.

Beautiful.

Now, baby, I need
a huge favor.

We need to stay in one of
your houses for a few weeks.

You know, some
place real quiet.

Lilah, you broke up with me.

I know. I needed you
to be convincing

if the cops reached out.

Baby, I love you.

I would never want
to be away from you.

Didn't I-- Didn't I say to you
that you had to trust me?

Didn't you swear to
me that you would?

Look, I'll make it
up to you, okay?

We'll do all those
things we talked about.

Lilah, I saw the other guys.

The pen pals.
Oh...

Did the marshals
tell you that?

They were lying.

No. You lied to me.

Mom, let's just go.

Shut up.

Baby, I would
never lie to you.

I'm sorry.

You're gonna have to leave.

We've got nowhere
else to go, Milt.

Hey, I'm asking
you to leave.

Okay? Just go.

Or I'll--I'll call the cops.

Mom? Please.

Mom!
You're gonna
do what, Milt?

Mom, please.

Just put the gun down.
You're gonna do what?

Please, Mom, no! No!

(ice cream truck playing song,
Lloyd humming along)

Anything?

No, just a flier
for the WNBA.

Are you joking?

The WNBA is
still around?

You can't be serious.

They've been around
for the last 12 years.

You don't get
the sports page in prison?

Hey, good for them.

I frickin' love the
Washington Mystics.

Yeah. You would.
I do.

Hey, guys.
Yeah?

Another trait of the
Manipulative Narcissist

is the inability
to lose gracefully.

Her fantasy's collapsed,
so she's lost.

She's coming unhinged.

Looks like
a small caliber pistol.

Entry wound,
no exit wound.

(cell phone ringing)
This is empty.

Hello?
TAYLOR:
Is this the professor guy?

Taylor?

(over speaker):
My mom shot someone.

She's got a gun and she's
talking a lot of crazy stuff.

I think her plan fell apart.

Where are you now?

Some trailer park
the guy she shot owns.

I don't know.

I'm just worried about her
and I don't know

what to do
because she won't listen to me.

Uh, what did she say?

Stuff like "It's over."

(knocking at door, Taylor gasps)

Taylor? I need you.

Don't leave me alone.

I got to go.
LLOYD: Taylor, listen to me.

You need to get out
of that house.

Your mother might be suicidal

and if you stay,
you might get hurt, as well.

(pounding on door)
Taylor!

Taylor!

(rattling doorknob)

Taylor, what are you doing?

Taylor...

Taylor!

I can't just leave her.

Taylor!

(phone beeps off)

Let's go.

All right.
Langley owns 85.

All right, we got to be real
careful about this, guys.

The key is to get Lilah
away from her son,

so she doesn't have a chance
to take him out, too.

When I did bounty
work with my dad,

we did plenty of extractions
in trailer parks. I mean,

I've got some ideas.

We can go in first and...
Listen.

If it comes down
to a negotiation,

do not let
her see you lying.

A person with her disorder

can't stand
being manipulated.

Did you just say
"bounty work"?

Please just put the gun down.
It's over.

They're going to find his body.
There's no other way out.

There's always another way out.

CHARLIE (over P.A.):
Lilah Tompkins,

this is the U.S. Marshals.

I don't want to be
separated from you again.

Do you want
to be separated from me?

No...

Then I have a plan.

Where we can both...

Where we can both
be together forever.

I have some good news.

Milt Langley
survived the shooting.

He will not press charges.

Talk about the
guard thing.

Eddie Vaughan admitted
that he helped you escape.

In exchange
for your testimony against him,

you will not face charges.

What do they think?
I'm some dumb skank?!

Mom, just turn yourself in.

You're lying to me!
Mom! Please!

It's over. Honey,
there's no other way out.

Mom.
You're lying to me.

That is correct.

Gun!

Put the gun down, lady.

Lilah, you don't have
to do this.
Put the gun down.

Put the gun down, Lilah.
Don't be stupid.

Put the gun down!

Lilah, don't do this.

Mom!
Lilah, no!
Put the gun down!

No!

TAYLOR (crying): Mom!
She's gonna be
all right, Taylor.

(sirens approaching)

Next time, call
for backup.

From you?

We wanted to prevent the
situation from going bad.

Did you help yourself
to anything inside, Ray?

What?
I mean, you know,

check under the mattress.
You never know.
Ray.

Not now.

You're having a lot of fun,
knowing he can't hit you, right?

But I can.

In the van.

I accept responsibility.

Good. Good for you.
What?

I accept responsibility
for my gambling problem.

But will you do
me one favor?

When they find my body
shanked in a cell,

will you please
tell my mom

that... I hate her?

Will you do that for me?

Sure.

No. Don't tell her that.
Don't say that to her.

Tell her... Tell her
I'm disappointed.

Yeah. Tell her that I'm
disappointed in her choices.

Okay?

Hey.

I'm, uh, I'm Erica Reed.

I may have been
a little rude to you

the first time we met,
and I apologize.

Okay.
CHARLIE: Erica.

You should take some charm
lessons from her, Charlie.

We need you, Lloyd.

But if you ever
get in debt again

and jeopardize
my gig here,

I will harvest one of your
organs with my thumbnail.

This is worth, like, $400, max.

Oh, my God.

(sighs)

It'll be enough.

CHARLIE:
Yes, sir.
I'll do that. Thank you.

Good night.

Sir, that was Knox.

For once, the
man's happy.

Happy, Ray? I'm happy.

Package for Ray...
Zancarelli?

RAY:
Zancanelli.

Over here.

It's from my daughter.

Open it.

I'll wait for you
in the car, man.

Do you remember
what you told me...

when I got kicked
out of the academy?

You said
if I didn't give up,

I could find my
way back one day.

How about we do
it together, okay?

Yeah.

Just remember,

he has a lot of tattoos
and things, so be careful.

Okay?
It's all up here, baby.

There.

My boy's debt with you?
It's off the books.

(chuckles)
Your boy, huh?

Well, tell your boy

this covers half of it.

There's an inconvenience
fee applied.

That's all of it, Tyler. Watch.

124 Mercer Street,

Brownsville, Brooklyn.

Yeah...

I got your card, bitch.

You ever come
around him again,

you'll be winding that
with your tonsils.

And this will be
the last time

you look me in the
eye around here.

That's what I thought.

Holla.

(barks)