All language subtitles for Billions.S06E09.Billions.Hindenburg.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb-NHI.srt

Previously, on Billions...

New York, we did it!

Prince didn't pull this off
all by his lonesome.

So we separate Prince
from his power base.

Philip gets first pick. He's
outperformed everyone lately.

I already started working
on Hypersonic.

I'm in the process of building
a relationship with the CEO.

There are major problems

with their tech
and aviation physiology.

There's no way to trade out
without taking a massive loss.

What do you think
they're agreeing to right now?

Oh, fuck.

There is
an item that I have

jammed into a certain bill

that will also be passing,

closing the carried interest
loophole.

So, what do we need to do to get
the bullet out of the gun?

Had we known, we never
would have been party

to such malfeasance.

These men and women were
unknowingly brought in

to an attempt to commit
bribery at a very high level.

- You gotta be kidding me, Mike.
- It's BS, Andy.

This news is our boarding pass
out of our fucked situation.

I figured you'd need help

unloading the shares
at the open.

Yes, another set of
hands would be good.

We can work through this.

I'm afraid the New York Games
are tainted now.

The ICS has come
to the conclusion

that the 2028 Games

can no longer be held
in New York City.

An icy wind burns and scars

Rushes in
Like a fallen star

Through the narrow space
Between these bars

Looking down
On Prison Grove

Dug in, hunkered down

Hours race without a sound

Gonna carry me
To where I'm bound

Looking down
On Prison Grove

Two kinds of men.

Those who, in defeat,
pretend they never cared...

and those who come alone

to pack up their gear
and soak in the loss.

I, like you, am a soaker.

I'm no soaker.
I'm a rebuilder.

Pat Riley approach.

Ah. The godfather.

Another great sage intimate
with the subject of defeat.

And victory.

Mostly victory.

"A champion needs a motivation
above and beyond winning."

Wiser words, huh?

State your purpose.

Well, in the spirit of all
this inspirational talk,

I wonder if you'd be motivated
to unload this office building

and some of the other property
you bought for the Olympics

to the state land bank.

When I was bootstrapping

my first startup
in the Bay Area,

I was motivated to go down to
Geraldine's Seafood Market early

so I could buy the freshest
catch before anyone else.

Now, I just buy
the fishing boats.

Well, by cutting out
the middleman,

that makes you
the middleman, no?

No, Chuck, it makes me rich,

with no need to unload anything
at any time

for anyone's reasons
other than my own.

It makes sense to free up acres
of land you no longer need.

Sell it back to the land bank.
I'll offer you a fair price.

Market rate.

Yeah, I'm not in the business
of buying high and selling low.

And if I was, I don't think
you'd be the fella

I'd want on the other side
of that deal.

You have to know that.

So, what's your true reason
for being here?

You trying to prompt me

into making some mistake
out of anger?

I think you've mistaken me
for someone looking for a fight.

That's in the past.
I'm here to find a way forward,

leave you with dignity
in defeat.

Hallmark of a guy trying
to give the other guy dignity

is hitting the word "defeat"

harder than Earnie Shavers
hit the heavy bag.

I may not be quite
as evolved

as I'd wish...yet.

I'm working on it.

Aren't we all.

What, you're really here
to end this?

Armistice? Ceasefire?
What are you offering?

I guess I need to see if
I believe you are standing down.

Do I look like a man
readying for battle right now?

No.

So like that fabled, frosty,
starlit December night in 1914,

when a melody drifted over
the darkness of no man's land,

British and German troops
called a truce

to sing holiday carols,

lighting trees in the trenches
rather than cannons,

a symbol of an Earth where
there could indeed be peace.

That particular truce
didn't last very long.

No, it didn't.

Walter Sinclair Smith
stopped a Mauser round,

- and it was back to business.
- As am I.

The past is in my rear-view.

I wanted the Olympics for NYC.
We didn't get it.

But there's no reason
to ready the nukes.

I thrive in peacetime.

How about you?

Oh, it's what I live for.

But, of course,

the best way to peace
is through overwhelming force.

I was up all night with it.
If he could have let it go,

then maybe I'd have been able
to move on.

But, no, Chuck lives
for just this kind of conflict.

He had to remind me
that he took from me.

- Now it's time to take back.
- Sure, boss.

Let's go full Rooster Cogburn
on his ass.

That makes me Mattie Ross.
Out for blood.

Didn't realize you took
this setback so personally.

I was brought in
to land the Olympics safely,

not to have them blow up
like an Irish car bomb.

Well, I could still use
your legal expertise.

Chuck is an elected official,

which by its very nature
makes him vulnerable.

Sure, what are we gonna do?

Line up and vote him out
in two years?

There's a much smaller vote
that can take place, and sooner.

The rare, quick arrivederci
of New York politics.

Chuck can be removed as AG.

He's standing over a trapdoor
as we speak.

How do we pull the lever?

Get the governor on board,
for starters.

Then it's a two-thirds majority
of the state Senate.

But you're up against
Chuck's entrenched interests

in every corner of the state,

from Taughannock Falls
to Lake Placid.

I know how to make
new friends.

It's easier
when the old ones

aren't poisoning the well
before you drink from it.

I agree. If Chuck even
catches wind of you

trying to trade favors
in his ring,

you better have
muleta and sword ready.

He'll come charging
right at you.

Common misconception

that bulls become angry
when they see red.

No, they respond to the movement
of the cape, not the color,

which is red
to mask the blood.

So we need to wave something
to get his attention.

I know what we need to do.

Welcome to The Bates.
How may I assist you?

I'm here to meet
a Mr. Legere.

Sure, one moment.

I'm sorry,
he hasn't arrived yet.

Okay, thanks.

I'm sorry, ma'am,

are you a member?

No, like I said,

I'm meeting Stuart Legere,
who is.

You'll have to wait outside.

Excuse me?

The executive lounge
is for members only.

You mean the lobby?
I can't sit in the lobby?

All guests must be accompanied
by members while on premises.

I'm sure it's a great stock,

and I'd go all in on it
if I worked

at fucking JT Marlin,

but I have to produce results.

Oh, hold it for me, please!

I'm sorry, lady,
that's not how it works.

You got your key?

You've got to have a key.

I just wanted to take my baby
to the park, pendejo.

I'll ram it
up their keister...

Hey.

I think I need to arrest someone
for being an asshole.

Can we do that?

Well, I used to try
more than I do now,

but, yeah, sure.

Guy right there,
Lulu Lehman Brothers,

just closed the gate on a woman
pushing a stroller

because she didn't
have a key.

Well, that beautiful,
verdant park

doubles as an asshole magnet.

Whole block is.

Only reason I'm waiting here
is because the Bates Club

just booted me out.

- Didn't you give the name?
- Yeah.

Right before they showed me
the service entrance.

I feel like I'm in They Live
and I'm about to go

Rowdy Roddy Piper
on someone's ass.

Fucking now!
Like the Wolf says,

money is the oxygen
of capitalism.

You know, we can't
actually arrest folks

for being schmucks,

but we can stop
structural schmuckiness.

We have a mandate to do so.

And that park
is the perfect target,

because it's symbolic
of so much more.

Of all the different kinds
of entry denied to people

- who aren't at the top.
- That's right.

Back in the late '60s,
you know,

a couple of teenagers
crashed their motorcycles

into the gates, took a few turns
around the old green.

Tore it up quite a bit
before taking off.

And you may think
that there was an outcry.

- No?
- No, indeed.

It was on the heels
of Woodstock.

Everybody just thought they were
doing it for peace and love.

- Different times.
- Maybe so.

But that gate.

I'm thinking it can be
turned into our key.

- To what?
- Unlock the city.

Ah, Stuart Legere.

So I looked into
what you asked.

I see we're past
the formalities.

You've got me under your thumb.
Doesn't buy you any smiles.

You want to know where Prince
is at and what he's going to do?

Well, he's wounded. Badly.

And I know more.

We can discuss it inside.
I have the best table waiting.

No, let's go somewhere open
to more than the landed gentry,

shall we?

You and your group pivoted
like a top Texas cutting horse

on the Hypersonic trade.

We like to stay nimble.

And I see you've also taken

a substantial
short position on it.

I was taught a good investor can
change their mind in an instant,

but a great one needs to be able
to do a full 180.

Losing the sponsorship
of the Games

- can't have hurt them that bad.
- We'll see.

The other part of that good
investor-great investor thing

is that they 180
on new information.

So, what was it?

Something one of my gang, Rian,
figured about their tech.

A totally legal move
on our part.

- Still, I should probably--
- Say less.

As the kids would put it, yes.

- It's time.
- Should we send her in?

Appreciate the update.
Excellent work.

- Please, come in.
- Thank you.

This is Michael Prince.

- Good to see you.
- Good to see you.

- Let's take a couple shots.
- Of course.

Nice. I got you.

- Hey, peach!
- What?

All right, everyone,
pencils down.

Place your open material faceup
on the table in front of you.

Holy shit,
look who's back.

- What's up, Mafee?
- My brothers.

Actually, we just stopped by
to steal some office supplies.

How's new-co?

Strikes and gutters,
you know.

- All right, dude.
- Dollar Bill. Mafee.

- What's the rumpus?
- Meetings in the building.

Wanted to come by
and see the reno-vaysh.

So, who's the, uh,
slightly younger,

less handsome,
suave version of me?

This is Philip Charyn.

New PM.

Dollar Bill and Mafee.

Well, it's a pleasure.
Your reps precede.

Philip's been instrumental
in helping

to steer this ship
in a new direction.

Thanks, Taylor.

And what direction is that?

Towards a sandbar
in the Suez Canal?

Whoops. Sorry
about the Olympics, guys.

There's always
next decade.

What'd your nana tell you about
joining in with the bullies?

Don't make me call her
and tell on you

before your weekly FaceTime.

I got carried away.

I am sorry you lost the Games
and all that business,

if it mattered to you.

I know, Mafee.
And Nana would be proud.

You two sticking around
for a while?

No, we got to get
back soon.

Just wanted to pop in
and say hi.

Rap your knuckles
against our balls.

Still tungsten,
so tap lightly for your sake.

"Reno-vaysh"? Really? You're
abbreviating everything now?

I'd offer you
something to drink,

but you won't
be staying long.

You want to take
a swing at me

because I didn't indulge

your childhood
train conductor fantasy?

Go ahead.

I'll even take off my hat,
Sergeant Hulka-style.

Yeah, well,
the difference is,

you'd be the one
who'd end up gutted,

bent over, and sucking wind.

I'll take the punch to the belly
instead of this.

Are you hacking my phone now,
Governor?

No, sir.
Got it from a comms guy I know.

Went from his Slack channel
to my aide's phone to mine.

You see, Mr. Prince,
news travels fast,

especially when it's about
my potential opponent,

Celina Russell.

Yeah, well,

I'm shopping
for a new governor.

Remember, you break it,
you buy it.

Make sure you like
what you have,

and that you're not
just grabbing the first

- shiny object you see.
- Come on.

Brilliant former legal aide-
turned-cable news pundit

with hometown roots
in Rochester?

And with that winning,
high-wattage smile.

What's not to love?

And soon,
she won't be able to close

her campaign finance war chest,
'cause I'll have overstuffed it.

She'll primary you,

We'll outspend
and outspin you in every county.

Man, I so want to go
chest-to-chest with you on this,

you know, Rocky Graziano-style,

but I think you'd see
right through my hard-eyed pose.

We both know I barely won
my last election,

and that's when my opponent
was in the wrong party.

The hell am I gonna do
against Miss America?

Simple, you can agree
to what I want.

Which is?

Rhoades kicked to the curb.

Specifically, I need you
to write a letter

to the New York Senate
requesting a special session

to vote on his removal.

On what grounds?

See? You're already asking
the right questions.

Maybe there's hope for you
after all.

- I'll send you the details.
- No, no, no.

I got no reason to spend
my political capital

on your Randall Flagg.

He's yours, too.

You work in an abattoir
long enough,

you become nose-deaf
to the blood and guts.

Doesn't mean that the agent
of death isn't there.

You've been wading through it
so long,

you don't realize he is.

Listen, I'm not
gonna sign anything

unless you can guarantee me

you got two-thirds
of the Senate with you,

willing to vote him out.

We need Chuck dead,

not wounded and angry.

I'll get you your two-thirds.

Just have your pen ready.

"Unlock the city"?

That's the battle cry? Huh!

Well, considered
"There is no land for us

beyond the Volga,"
but it was taken.

Well, at least the Russians had

a literal snowball's chance
of winning.

- We don't.
- Hold on, Van de Veld Park

has a tax exemption.

It's regulated
like a nonprofit.

State law prohibits
discrimination in public spaces.

And a park is,
by its very function,

a public accommodation,
and must be non-discriminatory.

Unless it's a private park,
like Van de Veld.

The land belongs
to the adjacent condo owners

and has since the McClendon
Trust was formed in 1912.

Maybe billionaires
have the right to close off

and restrict acres of nature in
the middle of an urban center.

The question we're posing is:
should they?

Everyone else has to pay taxes
for the property they own.

Why should the top 1%
have a loophole

that exempts them
from the same?

Why should Busby Berkeley
be a household name,

but Gower Champion
is largely unknown?

There are injustices
in the world,

and one of those is,
the rich have loopholes.

Until now.

Either pay up
or unlock the gates.

It won't hold up in court.

So there must be a win
in just picking the fight.

We don't need a courtroom
to let the billionaires

start turning their guns
on each other.

Okay, then let me hit
Bass Pro Shops

for a rod and reel to use
on this fishing expedition.

Yep, we just need the right bait
to get a keymaster to let us in.

I'm telling you,
Gold Bond Medicated, you slap it

right up there between
your crack and your sack,

and it's like disco dust
for your taint.

- Hold on.
- State police.

Fuck-- What the-- Hey! Hey!

- Hey!
- Steven Birch,

a jackal at large in the city.

Imagine my surprise
when I discovered

that you sit
on the board of trustees

for the very private park

into which I am conducting
an investigation.

- Into what?
- Your tax-exempt status.

I'm curious, how many people
have one of those coveted keys?

Any parkside resident in one
of 44 surrounding buildings.

So 481 keys,
give or take.

- But that list is private.
- Not for long.

You grab me off the street

because you want to push
your little girl on our swings?

Or are you harassing me
just for the fun of it?

No, I do it to get revenge
for people like a young mother

who got locked out because
she happened to be brown

and some Wall Street raider-type

wanted to finish his phone call.

Sounds like
a regrettable mistake.

Well... preventable one,
certainly.

What's going
to be regrettable

are the news stories
and the cause of action I bring

on behalf of the people
against the chairman

of the conservancy-- you--

and likely an inquiry into

and audit of your businesses
to go along with it.

Boy, you look like that guy
in the old photo

trying to catch a cannonball
with his belly.

Just grimacing and pretending
to smile through the pain.

That look you're seeing
is me reacting

to the smell of bullshit
wafting through your car.

No, no.

You know what? No.

I'm going to stay above it.

What will it take to get you
to leave me alone, Mr. Rhoades?

A list of your members.

Because I intend to serve
every keyholder, bring suit,

and let a judge's gavel
be my battering ram

on those fucking gates.

I have some preternatural
skills, you know?

Think fast. Talk fast. Run fast.
These things come in handy.

Except when...

Except when the fast talking
outpaces the fast thinking.

Such as when you suggested
we oust Chuck

using Albany Trilogy methods.

I mean, it was Chuck who first
turned me on to those books.

That's not why
you're begging out now, though.

It surely is not,
but, uh, I...

I can't be seen
having a hand in this.

Sure you can.

Hard-nosed political operative
is a useful descriptor

for someone who wants
the trajectory you do.

It can be played
as disloyal to him that made me.

Also to the public as, I lined
up with a billionaire against--

This billionaire is worth
more than the public to you

in terms of winning
the seat you covet.

Financing primaries
and general elections and so on.

Getting his friends
to throw in too.

Learned not to trust
promises like that.

Yet my whole reputation is based
on keeping promises like that.

How about this:

You give me the info I need
to do it,

watch me as I do it,
guide my hand,

and I alone will know
your involvement.

Sixty-three seats
in the state Senate.

No term limits.

Deeply entrenched lifers
not easily swayed

by opportunities waiting
for them in the private sector,

and some who actually care about
what's good for their districts.

Give each one a cookie.

And the rest?

Care about
what's good for them.

Their political futures.

So to reach two-thirds--

You need 42 votes.

Can you guide me there?

You know I can.

He's coming after all
the Van de Veld Park keyholders,

which means you
and our neighbors.

On what grounds?

I mean, let Rhoades try
to step foot on private property

without a warrant.

Does he have
a complaint?

Sounds like NYAG

is on some plebeian jihad.

I'm on your side,
and that sounded offensive.

What they're really after

is dissolving
our board of directors,

strip us of our
tax-exempt status.

- Fuck!
- I'd like to see him try.

Better men have been run out
on a rail for less.

Trust me, I know.

And I'll show him what he can do
with his injunction.

That's just it.

He wants us to throw money
at the problem, prove a point.

Make us put ourselves
on display.

Well, I'm not
giving up my condo.

I just reestablished residency
with my new girlfriend.

She loves the park.

What else is there?

What the fuck, Birch?
What is this, a setup?

I'm not here to fight you,
Lazarra,

despite how you all
sold me out.

I'm here to fight
alongside you.

I don't ask much of the city.

But I do think I've earned
the right to some privacy.

As we all have.

Elitism isn't your thing, Mike.

It's not elitism,
it's self-preservation.

More territory
Chuck Rhoades has invaded.

That man is responsible for us

going from being treated
like royalty

when we walked into restaurants

to having to use OpenTable
like everyone else.

You think he's going to stop
at the park?

The Knickerbocker,
the Metropolitan, the Core Club.

All storied institutions
we're members of,

reserved for us
to gather in peace.

He'll go after them next.

See? Jihad.
That's what I said.

At what point will we have to
leave New York City altogether

just to avoid a wealth tax?

Because make no mistake,
that's where this is going.

And you've come down
from the heavens to save us?

Pretty much.

You fell under his spell, Birch.

He used you
to get us all here.

We needed a lifeboat.
He was the only one offering.

Yeah, why would you
offer to help us

after the Olympics deal
going south?

I'm willing to look past
your betrayal.

And I'll take care
of Chuck Rhoades,

so you can keep
your hands clean.

But if you screw me again
in even the slightest way,

I'll maim every single one of
you like Johnny Rambo in Blood.

You're not throwing in with us

because you love this place
or us.

And what is the real agenda?

What price are you looking
to exact?

A price has to be paid, sure.

But it'll be to your benefit
in the long run.

If I do this for you,

you'll have to put up
your money.

You'll each invest
a quarter bil at MPC.

Believe me, Senator,
I take no pleasure

in going after these
Van de Veld Park trustees.

They're fine citizens,
one and all.

Or maybe not so fine.

But someone needs to advocate
for the people

who actually pay taxes,
and on this one, that's me.

Have a good day, Senator.

Third state senator
to pressure me on this thing.

That jibes
with what I know.

The cabal is reunited.

And they're strategizing
with Prince now

on how to fight this effort.

And true to form, he stuck them
each for investable funds.

And true to form,
we're going to mow them down.

I have State Senator Tharp
on two

and Assembly member Ma
still holding on line one.

The wolves are out.

The harder they push, the more
I know we're onto something.

Hold all such calls, please.

You can only ignore them
for so long.

Just until we got them
in front of a judge.

Hey, Taylor.

How's it going?

Yeah, always good
to see friends and colleagues

on the old ride
to the office.

Better than a funeral
cortege, you know?

How was lunch?

- Nothing special.
- It was great.

Fine. Just fine.
Nothing special, as he said.

You're going to lose
Ben and Tuk.

- They told you this?
- Not in so many words, no.

But, yes, by their affect,

which was more nervous
than usual.

I saw them coming back from
lunch sucking on Blue Bottle.

- That's the shit Mafee drinks.
- Meaning?

Either they suddenly grew a
taste for artisanal iced coffee

and went out of their way
to get it,

or they took an interview
at High Plains.

They're not under contract,
are they?

Sounds like an HR thing.
Maybe you take it up with Wendy.

She's out.
She took some personal leave

to refocus and reboot,
but you're missing the point.

Do you really think
they'd leave Michael Prince

and Starfleet Command
for a baby bro fund?

If they plan to leave together,

then maybe they don't really
want to leave.

But it's friends
going to work with friends.

Different, yet familiar.
They're feeling nostalgic.

You have a chance
to walk this back.

Unless it's their time
to move on.

Look, it can be difficult

leaving something you love,
even when you know you should.

- That sounds personal.
- It is.

I had a chance
to study under Daphne Koller.

- MacArthur Fellow?
- Yeah, among other awards.

Her work in the AI Lab
at Stanford is mind-bending,

which is why I stayed
in engineering a year longer

than I should have.

I had a similar internal
conflict with Bobby Axelrod.

He built me up
and broke me down.

I tried to make an exit
and ended up

right back where I started.

And now that he's gone,

do you think you've stayed
longer than you should have?

I did at first,

but I've come to realize
I'm right where I need to be

to get where I need to get,

which is ten figures
in personal assets.

That's the grisbi, huh?

What do you plan
on doing with it?

Like the assets,
that's personal.

Look, this is all to say,

perhaps Ben and Tuk are right
where they need to be too.

And if they're not? If their
career path is to go elsewhere,

I won't stand in the way.

Uplifting sentiment,

but what I've been trying
to tell you is,

their departure
will reflect badly on you.

It isn't just about
your book anymore.

Losing personnel,
their ideas, their value--

that's going to be on you.

Ah. The optics.

Plus, they are fucking smart,
good at their jobs,

and not assholes.

If you can keep 'em,
keep 'em.

And if I can't?

We should set up
an exit interview.

Try to get something in trade.

Hmm. Yeah. I think...

So, how we looking?

We got the Hudson Valley.
That gives you seven.

Good in Finger Lakes too.

Syracuse, Ithaca, Rochester,
they love you.

Nothing a sizable
college endowment can't buy.

That gives you
another eight votes.

You like to lead
with the good news.

I've learned something
about you, Scooter.

But let me share the bad:

There's a senator from Oneonta.
He's a holdout.

- Who's he?
- Senator Clay Tharp. Republican.

Been in the seat since
Kate Sacker's first birthday.

Ooh, that's a long time.

Not that long.

He's screening our calls.

Our magic number is 42.

Where does Tharp fit in?

With Tharp, you get four more
in the region.

He'll get me over the line?

That settles it, then.

We're going to Albany.

Mohawk tribe is from your area.

The Keepers of the Eastern Door
of the Iroquois Confederation.

Is that how
you fancy yourself?

Am I sitting with the big chief?
The guardian of the region?

On the contrary,
I'm just an elected official

executing the duties of his post
as he sees fit.

And does that includes holding
the line for Chuck Rhoades,

regardless how misguided
or even corrupt he is?

Let me stop you there.

You want to know why
I supported the Rhoades ticket?

I want to know the makeup
of dark matter.

I'll settle for that.

He was there for me
at my lowest.

Visited us
when my wife took ill.

And at her funeral,
he shook my hand,

he looked me in the eye,
and he said...

"Under better circumstances."

Simple words.

Not nearly enough for a man
who'd just lost his wife,

but what would be enough?

And I saw the beauty
and the comfort in those words.

I'd live on.
I'd return to the statehouse.

At least I'd have that.
My life's work.

And when I did return,

Chuck would be there,

his friendship
awaiting me.

It was the promise
of a better future.

And I understood
that that was the most

that one politician
can give to another.

So, I'm sorry,
I can't go against him.

I could be a good friend
to you too, Senator Tharp,

if you let me.

What part of "I can't help you"
was unclear?

Jesus. Again?

It's time we stop
sounding surprised.

Sacker is the walking embodiment
of Sky Masterson's cider story.

That's one I don't know.

If you walk into a bar
and some fella offers to bet you

that that ace of spades is gonna
jump out of a deck of cards

and squirt cider in your ear,
you better believe

you're gonna end up
with an ear full of cider.

And this particular earful's
going to cost him 1,800,

and you 32.

My brain trust is fleecing
the rest of my brain trust.

- Happens.
- What's the verdict?

Tharp's not moving.
What have you got?

Economic fallout in Oneonta,
his district,

in the wake of the pandemic.

- Spit it.
- Downtown's an aging shithole.

Governor marked millions
to put some perfume on that pig.

- And if we make that go bye-bye?
- Old white people hate

when they can't preserve
their history.

I suppose it's not so simple as
just asking Sweeney to renege?

We need to identify
some equally worthy projects

the funds can be
reallocated to.

- I'll find it.
- And we need to do so

without exposing you,
Mr. Prince,

to criminal liability.

At your service.

Can we pull this off in time?

If we go to trial,
we likely lose,

so we need to negotiate
a settlement

we can paint as a win.

Something they'll take
but not quite choke on.

Public access times,
a sunset provision

that phases out
the private access.

And you have a plan
to pull that off?

Absolutely.

We just convince
the judge and our opponents

that it's not what we want.

You want to open up
the membership

to every private club
and park in the region

and let anarchy reign?

You're Sid Vicious now.

Well, as he said,
"I'm not vicious, really.

I consider myself
to be kindhearted.

I love me mum."

Look, it's laid out clearly

- in section 40-
- A that all persons shall be entitled

to the full and equal
accommodations--

I'm aware of the provisions,
Mr. Rhoades.

I don't need you to recite them.

But what I don't see here
is any indication

that there's widespread
violation of them.

These clubs all have
open-door policies in place now.

"Open" is subject
to interpretation,

as our investigation shows.

Well, let's see.

- An African-
- American man was yelled at by a security guard.

A woman overheard two men
crack a sexist joke,

and their membership
wasn't revoked.

One club only has
two Jewish members.

Two?

So they can play golf and tennis
with each other.

- Hmm.
- Yeah, it's a thing.

None of this looks good,

but grounds for a lawsuit?

Individually,
these are complaints

that get swept
under the rug.

But taken together,

they form a fact pattern
about who has access

and, more importantly,
who doesn't.

These clubs' mere existence
is a violation of state law.

You're entitled to your opinion
and your frivolous lawsuits,

as are the defendants
who filed a countersuit

to block NYAG's efforts.

We expected as much,

and we are eager to argue
the points in front of a jury.

I'm sure you'd love the chance.

But I'm granting a permissive
joinder of parties,

combining these lawsuits
into one.

- Hold on a sec--
- Yep.

I'm rolling
all your scraps together

into one nice chop meat
surprise,

and I want a settlement
between parties.

A settlement
doesn't benefit anyone.

- Hey, Chuck.

So you're putting me
in a Ken Patera full nelson?

No, it's Chuck Rhoades
putting you

in this particular
chicken wing.

He's threatening to pop
that shoulder out of joint,

and private enterprise
out this state along with it.

Well, your part of the state,
anyway.

You see,
his war against business

makes it far more
advantageous

for Governor Sweeney to partner
with hedge fund owners like me

than with small businesses
and municipalities like yours.

Bottom-line it for me,
city boy.

You can look like a hero
when we announce

that the Prince Companies
will partner with Oneonta

on the downtown
redevelopment project.

Or embrace your political death
if your stubborn,

if admirable,
loyalty won't quiet down.

Your choice.

It would be an easy choice...

under better circumstances.

Shit.

I got your two-thirds.

It's go time.

Pursuant to this settlement,

NYAG agrees
to drop these lawsuits

in exchange for restrictions
being lifted

and gates unlocked
at various city parks

for at least
four hours a day.

The timeline to
institute this change

is within seven years.

I'll let you folks
work out the fine print

before I sign off on it.

No one got
what he wanted.

Wheels of justice
are grinding away.

What's wrong?

The governor
has served the Senate

with a letter of charges
against you.

It's a motion to remove you
from office.

- On what grounds?
- Abuse of power.

An enemy got ahold of Sweeney
and is steering this against me.

Chuck, at this point,
it doesn't matter.

The ball's with the Senate now.

No, it does matter, Ira,

'cause if someone
got to Sweeney,

it's possible they got
to the Senate as well.

Can they make this move without
giving you an opportunity

- to defend yourself?
- Let's focus on your legal wins.

As your attorney,
I can represent you,

but I need help
devising a strategy.

For when?

They've called a special session
for tonight.

They can't do that.

Chuck, I read the rules.
They can.

Welcome, guys.

We were happy
to get your call

to talk about
swapping some assets.

Is it gonna be a "you show us
yours, we show you ours"

kind of thing, or...?

Yeah, were you
thinking we'd start

with some of the stuff
you built up

in anticipation of
the Olympics, or...?

Oh.

We'll just...

No, you're in the right meeting.
Join us. Sit.

So these are the assets

you're really
interested in.

- That's right.
- Fuck.

I feel like Rogen in Neighbors.
Delta Psi has the upper hand.

This is a white paper
I started on High Plains

and the $937 million of assets
you have under management.

That's oddly fucking specific.

It contains a comprehensive
breakdown of your leverage,

and creditors,
and your allocations.

Risk parity: 4%.
Long-short equity: 28%.

Credit arbitrage: 6%.

Event-driven
and risk arbitrage: 24%.

CTAs-- You know, I could go on,
but it's all there in the paper,

as are the individual names
you're in.

We've been friends,
and I've gone to bat for you

and bailed you out in the past,
but this is the present.

I know where your money's at,
I know what you want,

and I know
what you're going after.

I know where you're weak.

This includes specifics,

as you can see on the last page,

as well as the names
of your investors.

Those are the names
I will target

if you continue sniffing around
our personnel,

and especially if they decide
to go over to you.

Look, um, no decisions
have been made yet.

That's good, because if that
should come to pass,

I will raid, bleed and feed
on High Plains' business.

I will sacrifice my own returns
to hurt yours, to kill yours.

Hey, that kind of interference
is illegal.

- Yeah, totally illegal.
- Say "illegal."

Go ahead and say "illegal"
again, I dare you.

I double dare you,
motherfucker.

Go on and say "illegal"
one more goddamn time,

because you know
who I trained under.

You saw me train under him.

You saw him teach me,
and you saw me learn.

Now ask yourself
if I give a shit about illegal,

and whether I'll be utterly
successful blowing up your firm

and sending you back
to a trading desk

as fucking order clerks.

And Mafee, before you say
this violates our friendship,

just know this:

Friends don't steal
from friends.

Be my friend?

I get it.

You reach an inflection point
in your career

where either you yearn
for something different,

or, in this case,
you start to wonder.

You fantasize about turning back
the clock.

Dollar Bill and Mafee
want to recreate the old Axe Cap

at High Plains,

and maybe you want
to be a part of that.

To the time of company trips
to Miami,

the suites at Yankee Stadium,
the poker tournaments,

everyone pitching in
to crush a sector.

But ask yourself,
how can they really do that

without Bobby Axelrod?

Or Bonnie. Or Wags.
Or Victor. Or me.

Our collective memory
is Axe Capital.

The rest is colored bubbles.

It's your call.

But it'd be a real shame to lose
the glue of our operations

here on the floor
at Michael Prince Capital.

You think I'm the glue?

And not that Elmer's
preschool shit, either.

More like
"We need a plastic surgeon

to remove it from your hair"
Gorilla Glue.

It'd also be a shame

to lose our comer, as in,

one making rapid progress
and showing promise.

You know, I have been starting
to feel it lately.

Like Ohtani in year two
in the majors.

Just hitting my stride.

I think what you guys
really want is to negotiate

for better terms.

Maybe you want to ask
for Tuk's book back.

Well, we can get that sorted.
He's back in.

Really? Thanks!

I mean, okay, sure.

Maybe you want more guidance
and less oversight.

Consider it asked and answered.

But if you leave, well,
as for what happens then,

I think we covered that part.

You know what?

Perhaps we misjudged our timing.

Let's scrap
the offer on the table

if Taylor will,
in the name of friendship,

consider that
a peace offering.

I accept. But the next time
you're thinking

about talking to our people,
do it through the front door.

And maybe next time give your
interviewees boutique coffee

in unmarked cups.

You and your fucking
Blue Bottle.

- We're done with it.
- I like what I like.

So did KGB,
but he still threw the Oreos

against the fucking wall
when they sold him out.

Holy shit.

That was a master class
of business hardball.

I can't let anyone
take from me. Ever.

I see that now.

Unless it's something toxic
you want to stick them with.

'Cause it shows them that
you're weak and vulnerable,

and next time they'll come
for what matters most.

I know you might one day cut me
with the knife I'm giving you,

but I'd rather that
than watch a born fighter

let himself get stabbed.

Oh, and by the way,
we're even.

I was hoping to keep that chit
for a while, but yeah, we are.

You know what?

I think someone is nostalgic
for the way it was here,

hoping to hang on
to as many threads as they can

of the old days,
and it wasn't Tuk or Ben.

- Chuck...
- Hmm?

Senator.

Why didn't you return my calls?

I reached out right after
I heard from Michael Prince.

Wait, you called
about Prince?

Does it matter?

No, of course not.

I bet he was trying
to turn you against me.

But surely I can rely on you,
Clay, right?

Under better circumstances.

What the hell was that?

I'd say it's the moment
we learned

our indignation
was used against us.

We should have
seen this coming.

Speeding right in our direction.

Oh, shit, Chuck,

who suggested The Bates Club
as the meeting spot?

That'd be Legere.
Said he was a member.

Even though he's
from out of town,

and it's right across the street

from Van de Veld Park.

That manipulative
motherfucker.

Chuck. Ira.

And Miss Mahar.

I've already seen how warranted
your rep is.

Classic play
at The Bates Club.

You here to run another
bullshit game on us?

It's a chance to see Maximus
at the Colosseum.

How could I miss it?

He did pretty well,
if memory serves.

This may not turn out
the way you hope.

Instead, it's likely
you've wasted much time,

money and resources
orchestrating this.

Did I? Well, there's
a price to every battle.

A gladiator's willingness to pay
is what defines him.

We thank you
for your service.

Your effective performance.

With heartstrings well pulled.

I think we're good
paying you by check.

For you, a lovely window seat
back to Indianapolis.

Prince Capital thanks you
for your assistance.

The Senate will come to order.

We are in a special session,

closed to the public

by the request
of Governor Robert Sweeney.

Governor, you have the floor.

Thank you, Madam President.

I would like to begin this
evening by entering into record

a letter that I issued
to both this body

and to the accused.

It's about a matter
of grave importance

that deserves your careful
and immediate deliberation.

Remember,
no matter what he says,

we can rebut it
with your record.

What he calls corrupt,
we rebut with "fair dealmaking."

You're someone
who strikes a balance

between the letter of the law
and your evolving understanding

of a rapidly changing world.

You sound as if
you believe that yourself.

I'm certain of it.
But you need to be.

I think you will come
to the same conclusion

that State Attorney General
Rhoades has repeatedly

used his seat of power
to wage personal vendettas

instead of protecting
the interests

of the citizens
of this great state of New York.

With the latest information,
I think our strategy is flawed.

No, come on, Chuck.
We're here now.

Sweeney can say
whatever he wants,

leaving me to disprove
a negative.

Mr. Attorney General,

you will get your chance
to speak.

- Oh, will I?
- Chuck--

According to parliamentary
procedure

in special sessions
such as this,

the body must vote on whether
I even have an opportunity

to defend myself.

I was getting to that.
Madam President, please.

Under Article 3, Section 32,

I have the authority
to recommend the removal

of any public official
for misconduct.

But ultimately, my friends,
it is up to you, the Senate,

who must adjudicate
these charges,

hold a trial,

and make a determination
by two-thirds vote

whether to act
upon my recommendation.

And I expect you will come
to the same conclusion I have.

Now, I have authorized
President pro tem

and the majority leader
from District 35

to lead these
proceedings tonight

and to vote
on Mr. Rhoades's fate.

Thank you.

Thank you, Governor.

I would ask
for unanimous consent

to allow the Attorney General

to respond to these charges
before we begin.

All those in favor,
say "Aye."

Aye.

Those who oppose, say "Nay."

The "ayes" have it.

Mr. Rhoades,
the floor is yours.

- Okay, let me speak for you.
- No, I have to do this myself.

You don't. You shouldn't.

When has a pro se defendant
ever been the right choice?

You said yourself
this wasn't a real trial.

It isn't, it's--

You remember
what General de Gaulle said

when he took to the BBC?

No, but I suppose you do.

"Honor, common sense,

and the interests
of the country

require that all free men,
wherever they be,

should continue the fight
as best they may."

The French government
was all but prepared

to sign an armistice
with the Nazi invaders

when General de Gaulle's call
for freedom

rang out over the airwaves.

Their fight preserved
their nation's honor.

This one is mine, Ira.

Mr. Attorney General,
we're waiting.

Let's concede something
right off the top here.

If you do this,
you will be heroes come morning.

No. No doubt about it.

Any time a favorite loses
in a shocker,

the crowd cheers.

And not just the punters.
The flacks too.

Editorialists will salute you.

The front pages
will proclaim

that the will of the people
was done here.

And you will all have a few days
of kick-ass polling,

telling you
you have done good and right,

and taken the bold step so many
before you failed to take.

So, yeah, contemporary opinion
and the mood of the moment

will feel like helium,
lifting you to the sky.

But that puts me in mind
of a certain rigid airship

that was also the toast
of its town in its day.

Named for a legendary
military man,

this dirigible
was state of the art.

The smartest,
most connected

and influential figures
in finance and government

elbowed each other
out of the way to get seats.

And, for a time,

it did what it was
supposed to do.

In high style.

And was celebrated
in much the same way

you all will be.

That military officer,

his name was President Field
Marshal Paul von Hindenburg.

But instead of that name
connoting things like honor,

bravery under fire,
sophistication,

it now means disaster
of untold proportion.

And this body politic is
heading in the same direction

unless it reverses course
right now.

Boom!

Oh, the humanity.

Dang, he's good.

We're here to watch him fall,
not admire him.

Well, it's both.

If you do rethink this...

I will hold no grudge.

No ill will.

I understand the pressure
you are under.

Every single one of you
in this chamber

has been cajoled
and enticed by a man

who owns more assets
than the GDP

of most countries
on the planet.

Cajoled and enticed
to steer things his way

as he sees fit.

Not what the voters
of New York asked for,

but what he wants.

If that's not
the definition of corruption,

I don't know what is.

You know, what some people
call anti-business

is actually anti-corruption.

What some people claim
is abuse of power

is actually holding abusers
accountable.

But it's easy to forget
one's ideals

when there's a pile of money or
political spoils on the table,

'cause we each have things
we want,

and there never seems
to be enough to pay for 'em.

But we were elected to stand
against those corrupting forces

that would use that pile
to steer us away

from what we know
to be fair and just.

We were elected to be the voice
for the people

who don't have one of their own.

Those who have been silenced

when they dared speak truth
to the powerful.

But history hears their voices
in this chamber tonight.

I unconditionally reject
the charges leveled against me,

and have a public record
that supports what I fight for,

and have won, for the people
of this great state.

And you have a choice.

Fly with me...

or let this whole place go up
in flames like a Nazi zeppelin.

Thank you.

That response?
That never happens.

A great oration can change
the tides of history.

We'll see.

Senator Darcy Phelps.

Aye.

Senator Kirsten Potter.

Nay.

Senator Jim Rankle.

Aye.

Senator Marcia Ross.

Aye.

Senator Antonio Simamora.

Nay.

Senator Clay Tharp.

It's always the one guy
you counted on.

Aye.

The ayes have it.

This motion has been passed.

Charles Rhoades, Jr.,
is hereby removed

as attorney general
of the State of New York.

The Senate names
Miss Daevisha Mahar

as acting attorney general

for the remainder
of Mr. Rhoades's term.

Thank you all.

Drink it up,
Prince of the City.

But know that you have made
one mistake.

Unlike Walter Sinclair Smith,

I am not actually shot dead
in my trench.

That's the thing about dead men.
They never actually know it.

But everyone else does.

Close your eyes, Chuck.

It's over and done.

Right

Now

I am an Antichrist

I am an anarchist

Don't know what I want
But I know how to get it

I want to destroy passerby

'Cause I

Wanna be

Anarchy