All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 10x17 - The Morgana Logistics Corporation (No. 167).EDITH.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Surprise.

You need a bodyguard.

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

Yeah, well, good luck with that.

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

Hello!

Hey, Pinky!

"Swan Lake"!

It’s the music for my recital.

Yes. Speaking of that...

Capezios!

Oh, my gosh. They’re beautiful!

Named after the Italian
shoemaker Salvatore Capezio.

He made shoes for Anna Pavlova.

Oh, my gosh, Pinky.

One of the greatest ballerinas
of all time.

These are custom, Pinky.

How did you do that?

Remember when you fell asleep
during that movie?

You know, the animated one?

I measured your feet.

Thank you, Pinky.

It’s my pleasure, dear.

How are you, Harold?

How are you?

You sleeping alright?
You look a little tired.

Very perceptive, as usual.

It was quite a night.

What happened?

I had an intruder at the bathhouse.

What? Who?

- Were you hurt?
- I’m alright.

It was a little bit touch and go
at the beginning,

but I came out on top in the end.

And you had no security, I’m sure.

Raymond, that’s a mistake.
You have to prioritize...

Ah! I’m way ahead of you, Harold.

I realize I have been a little reckless

when it comes to my personal well-being.

- Where’s Chuck?
- I don’t know.

Something with his uncle.

I haven’t spoken with him
in a week or so.

But here’s a thought.

Maybe you could loan me Dembe,
just for a day or two tops,

while I secure other arrangements.

Yes. Absolutely.

I’ll inform Agent Zuma. Pancakes!

- You’re welcome!
- Thank you!

By the way, I looked into
that ship you told me about.

The Aubergine in the Port of Baltimore.

It’s owned by Transwisk International.

They’re a shipping firm
with a few dozen vessels.

The Aubergine carries

just over 11,000 40-foot containers.

Did you look at the manifest?

I did. Looks clean.

A few hundred companies total,

moving their goods for distribution.

None of the companies were
under active investigation

or raised any red flags.

That, Harold, is precisely the point.

What no one knows is that hidden

among those 11,000 containers are two

that most certainly
are not what they appear to be.

The company is called
Enteron Electronics,

a so-called mid-sized tech firm
headquartered in Florida.

Enteron isn’t a real company?

Well, it’s real in the sense

that it was issued
a certificate of incorporation

by the state of Florida,

it pays utilities and taxes,

but it’s not manufacturing

and/or selling mainframes
and motherboards.

It’s a phantom, a carefully
curated corporate identity.

I’m sure if you look,

you’ll find Enteron
has over 200 employees,

a 25-year history, stellar reputation.

But you’re saying all of that is...

False.

Who could do something on that scale?

Our new Blacklister...

The Morgana Logistics Corporation.

A criminal concern that specializes

in making companies appear legitimate.

Enteron Electronics
and that shipping company,

Transwisk International,
are just two of hundreds,

maybe thousands of Morgana’s creations.

Thousands?

Morgana secures

authentic documentation
from the government

and real vessels,
trucks, ships, and aircraft

with bona fide hull and tail numbers.

And they manufacture
exceptionally detailed

identities for executives and employees.

And no law enforcement agency’s
picked up on this?

Well, it’s not entirely their fault.

The numbers are overwhelming,

and many of the companies
that Morgana stands up are real

and conducting legitimate business.

But enough are fictitious and camouflage

for certainly the largest
criminal shipping conglomerate

in the United States.

You take down Morgana,

you’ll end one of the biggest
criminal enterprises

in American history.

Where’s Dembe?

With Reddington.

He’s finally agreed to more security.

Dembe’s filling in while Reddington

finds a more permanent solution.

According to Reddington,
Morgana Logistics uses

apparently legitimate companies
like Enteron Electronics

as a smokescreen to move
contraband around the country.

After your call, I did
some research into Enteron.

Their tax returns show a net income

of about $14 million a year.

They have a website with photos
and bios of an executive team.

Even a receptionist
who answers the phone

at their corporate offices.

I wonder how she’d stand up
to questioning.

Well, she’d be the only one,
because the rest of them,

they don’t exist.

Well, not as flesh and blood, anyway.

Their photos were generated
by an AI program

that uses different pieces
of faces online

to make an amalgamation.

If those executives are fake,

how do they have real
driver’s license or tax returns?

That’s what we need to find out.

Enteron is just the first domino.

Morgana’s the brains behind this.

They’re our target.

Well, according to the Enteron manifest,

that ship’s carrying
electronic components.

The problem is, there could be
anything in those containers.

With over 500 million containers
shipped every year,

only about 2%
are ever physically inspected.

So, what is Enteron really moving?

I can’t wait to hear that.

Could be live reptiles,
fake Louis Vuittons.

Or weapons. Or people.

The possibilities are endless
and quite concerning.

Ressler, Malik, get to the port.

I’ll reach out to the U.S.
Attorney for a search warrant.

With Dorf and Hudson off our backs,

seems like things
are finally going our way.

His name’s Jordan Nixon.

He’s a Special Agent working out
of the Richmond field office.

He should be here any minute.

Come on, Arthur.

We’re investigating an FBI task force.

You really think someone from the Bureau

is gonna help us do that?

You’ll see.
We worked a few cases together

when I was with
the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

That was a while ago. A lot’s changed.

I’m betting he hasn’t.

One of the cases we made

involved a group
of FBI tactical officers

lying about how much weight they seized

in a handful of drug raids.

He went after them like a bloodhound.

Yeah, and I’m still paying for it.

Made more than a few enemies
in the Bureau on that one.

- Thanks for coming, Jordan.
- Yeah.

I already feel like I might be sorry.

This is my aide, Diane Atkins.

- Diane, meet Jordan Nixon.
- Hi.

Diane was just leaving.

Oh. Right. Very nice meeting you.

Likewise.

So, it’s like that, huh?

Even the support staff can’t stay?

I’m circling the wagons, Jordan.

Everybody’s need-to-know on this one.

What exactly do I need to know?

Task Force 8-3-6.

It’s a covert Bureau operation.

I stumbled onto it
doing some budget review.

From what I can see, it’s one
of the biggest expenditures

the agency’s ever sanctioned,
and nobody...

I mean nobody... Will tell me why.

Or how. Or who.

Maybe there’s a good reason.

Yeah.

Or maybe it’s a corrupt op

and a criminal use of government funds.

All I’m asking for

is a reasonable amount of transparency.

You’re a congressman. Issue a subpoena.

I did. And not just me.

I got Senator Dorf to back my inquiry.

Cynthia Panabaker and Harold Cooper

convinced a judge to quash it.

And when Dorf kept pushing?

They leveraged him.

- That’s why Dorf stepped down?
- Mm-hmm.

I’m onto something, Jordan.
Something real.

And if I’m right,
it’s a stain on the Bureau.

I’m coming to you

’cause you’ve always been
one of the good guys.

Are you still?

What would you need?

Information.
I can’t get it from the outside.

Maybe you can sniff out
some truth from the inside.

That’s all I’m after... The truth.

My problem isn’t with the warrant.

My problem’s you’re holding up
over 11,000 containers

to search two.

Well, we appreciate your cooperation.

Alright, fellas, let’s crack a few.

I want it on record,
both these containers

had high-security bolt seals

that were intact when you seized them.

Already noted.

What do you know about
Enteron Electronics?

Nothing. I see their name
on my manifests.

We have reason to believe the company’s

not transporting electronic components.

Looks like this is from Bordeaux. Wow.

Huh.

Got a Grand Crus here.

I’m no expert, but even
I’ve seen the headlines

on the tariffs being imposed
on imported French wines.

Those are pretty expensive taxes.

A shipment this size?

By going under the radar,

you’re probably saving
a few hundred grand.

So you had no indication that
you were transporting contraband?

Absolutely not. I’m a captain.

I just sail my ship
from one place to another.

The containers come pre-packed.

It’s not my job to verify what’s inside.

Well, we have your information.

If we need anything, we’ll be in touch.

I’ve done hundreds of runs
with Enteron containers.

They sent me a Christmas card,
for God’s sake!

We need to find out who runs Enteron.

Come in.

The FBI just seized
the Enteron containers

- at the Port of Baltimore.
- What?

Enteron has operated
without interference

from law enforcement for years.
What changed?

Okay. The boss isn’t gonna like this.

Keep an eye on the FBI.

I want to make sure
there’s no ripple effect.

How much can we afford to lose?

Well, if it gets bad enough,
you’ll have much bigger things

to worry about than the losses.

Sir, we know Enteron’s
been distributing contraband

across the country.

The entire extent of what and how much

is still under question.

We interviewed the captains
of the other ships

carrying Enteron containers. Same story.

Nobody knew that they were
smuggling illegal goods.

So we have the shipments
but no company executives.

Um, we may not have executives,
but I did find an accountant.

It’s the guy that did
Enteron’s taxes last year.

Agent Malik, go talk to this accountant.

I’ll contact the Tampa field office

and have them send a team
to Enteron’s main warehouse.

Not real? That’s absurd!

I can assure you this company
is very real

and extremely profitable.

I’ve been doing Enteron’s taxes
for years.

What you’ve been doing, Mr. Conklin,

is aiding and abetting
a criminal enterprise.

Now, if you knew or
reasonably should have known...

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there.

My clients submit their financials.

I provide my expertise based
on the numbers they supply.

What about the contact info I gave you?

We raided Enteron’s headquarters
in Tampa.

There were no employees on site.

Just some dusty office equipment
and a few desks.

I know nothing about that.

Well, Mr. Conklin, the only people

who could have corroborated
your story don’t seem to exist.

But you exist.

You’re right here in front of me.

And I’m telling you the truth.

Enteron is a very respectable company

with an impeccable reputation.

It’s no scam.

Hell, I just had a working
dinner with Roger Barrett,

the Vice President
of East Coast operations.

Where?

Jaspiner in Manhattan.

Yeah. Yeah, understood.

Everything okay, sir?

Send everybody home
for the rest of the day.

Boss wasn’t happy about the seizure.

So much so, he, uh...

He wants to come into town,
talk with me alone.

Is it that bad?

Yeah. He’s not one to disappoint.

- Let me help, sir.
- No.

You can’t help, Westbrook.

You can’t help.

He’s coming into town
for a leadership change.

And I-I really don’t know
what that means.

Jaspiner?

I have been trying to get
a reservation there forever.

Did you go in the kitchen?
How did it look?

- How did it smell?
- Herbie.

Conklin’s "working dinner"
was too long ago

for there to be
any surveillance footage.

But the restaurant’s
general manager was able

to access the transaction
records for the night.

The executive, Roger Barrett,

used a corporate credit card,
but not from Enteron.

It was from a place
called Northmyer, Incorporated.

Is this Northmyer even real?

I don’t know, but the card has

a billing address here in D.C.

You and Agent Ressler get there.
I’ll secure another warrant.

Did you try anything
while you were there?

Oh, my God. You did, didn’t you?

Just one delicious fish dumpling.

Must be nice to be in the field.

I checked the perimeter. We’re clear.

No apparent threats.

Tell me what happened
last night, Raymond.

Oh, let’s not ruin a perfectly
nice time with all that.

You told Harold an intruder
was at the bathhouse.

Yes, and I handled it.

Who? Why were they here?

You’re not gonna let this go, are you?

Fine. I’ll give you three guesses.

If you don’t get it right, we move on.

Deal?

Deal. Monaco?

- No.
- Enzo?

No. That’s two.

Not Monaco?

The chef at Gage & Truffaut?

Oh, come on.

There’s no way she could
still be mad at me.

It was ages ago.

I barely remember what I did.

You remember.

In any case, no. Not the chef.

- You’re out of guesses.
- No, I’m done guessing.

If you’re not gonna tell me
what happened last night,

- then I’m leaving.
- Okay, okay, okay, okay.

On one condition.

What?

You beat me in a game of Bananagrams.

FBI! Hands where we can see them!

- Federal agents!
- No way in or out.

Clear!

This is Northmyer?

A warehouse with no public access points

and no loading dock?

What is this place?

Where is everyone?
Why are you the only one here?

This place is a gold mine.

From what I can tell,

the building was being used
as a data center

for creating fake American companies.

Paperwork on the desk suggests
that they were applying

for legitimate permits and licenses.

Well, that’s what
Morgana Logistics does.

This must be one of their facilities.

Yeah, okay.

Look at this. Look.

All of these are companies.

It’s going to take us forever
to figure out

which ones are real and which aren’t.

When we were debriefed about Morgana,

I was thinking maybe
a few hundred fake companies.

But we are talking thousands.
Maybe even tens of thousands.

Look. Look.

Birth certificates,
vehicle registrations,

plane registrations, travel
histories, expense reports.

All real. Everything you need
to make a company.

Just add water.

Morgana Logistics may be

the biggest criminal enterprise
I’ve ever seen.

There’s shipping routes
all throughout the country.

Thank you.

You got a name?

The Fifth Amendment.

That’s an interesting name.

Yeah, my mother thought
it would make me stand out.

Well, whoever you are,
we ran your prints,

and you have no criminal record.

But you were carrying a license
in the name of Gerome Kavanaugh,

with an address in Bethesda.

Looks like there’s
no such person or address.

No tax returns,
no Social Security numbers,

no birth certificate
that we were able to find.

No, you’re a phantom, just like
those companies you create.

Jesus. I’m sorry to make
your life so difficult.

Oh, my life is fine.

You’re the one who’s in
for a difficult time.

Yeah? You think?

I don’t care what your name is.

U.S. Attorney’s gonna
write you up as John Doe,

and then they’re gonna
charge you with thousands

of counts of enterprise fraud.

Yeah, I’m thinking RICO violations.

You don’t need a name to go to prison.

Alright. Am I softened up enough
for the pitch?

Is that it?

Right? You’re a fed.

That means you live for the trade up.

You catch a fish, and instead
of eating what you got,

you try to trade it up
for some larger size.

In this case, I guess, it’s what?

My employer?

I wouldn’t worry about what I want.

- What do you want?
- What do I want?

Well, I-I don’t want to spend
the rest of my life in prison.

Then again, I want there to be
a rest of my life.

And what? If you cross
your boss, he’ll kill you?

Look, he’s coming for you
no matter what.

With everything that you know?

You need whatever deal you can get.

Wow. Look at you.
You feds can’t help it.

It’s part of your DNA, right?

Speaking of DNA, uh...

...you may be able to get
a sample off of that.

That’s why you left it there, right?

Okay. I think we’re done.

I don’t need anything further.

I don’t want to talk to an attorney.

So just send me out to central booking.

We’ll get this show on the road.

How’s that?

That didn’t go well.

Yeah, I don’t care how calm he is.

That man’s afraid of someone.

That’s who we need to find.

- Where does that leave us?
- He refuses to talk,

and we have no way to know
who he is unless he tells us,

and he knows it.

That man is a ghost.

What are the chances
we’ll get a hit on that cup?

Based on how cool he played it?

About the same as me playing
first base for the Yankees.

Ah!

3 to 0.

- Best of seven?
- Mnh-mnh.

Start talking.

I was half-asleep
when I heard someone coming in.

So I went to investigate.

You were alone?

Yes, but I felt perfectly
capable of defending myself.

From?

It was Weecha.

Weecha?

You told Harold it was an intruder.

And she was.

Raymond.

Clearly you led us to believe it
was someone with bad intentions.

I don’t know what Weecha’s
intentions are, Dembe.

The woman’s hard to read.

She wouldn’t hurt me,
but she might hurt me.

It’s unclear.

Oh. That’s Andrea.

Have you met Andrea Athens?
Lovely woman.

She was the one who helped me
find a suitable space

for the duplicate Post Office.

- I don’t think we’ve met.
- Ah.

Jack-of-all-trades. Jack.

If it’s a woman, does that
make her a Jill-of-all-trades?

Eh. Logistics of all types,

- not just real estate.
- Whoa, Raymond.

I got it. Okay.

Andrea! How are you?

This is Dembe.

- A pleasure, Dembe.
- Hello.

I’m wonderful, thank you,
Mr. Reddington.

Andrea, I can’t tell you

how marvelous
that last place turned out.

Thank you so much.

It’s always nice when your work
is appreciated.

Please, tell me, how can I help?

I’d like to throw a party.

Well, not just a party, a celebration.

A party?

What are you celebrating?

Beginnings and endings.

The coming of spring.

Not a lot of food.

Lots and lots of drinks and passables.

And maybe a little window dressing.

How many guests are we talking?

Somewhere between 25 and 30.

Wonderful. Anything I need
to know about them?

Only that they’re an important group.

To me.

Oh. Excuse me.

Harold. I was wondering when you’d call.

How did it go with Enteron

and the electronics that weren’t?

We’re way past Enteron.

You were right. The company was a front.

We followed the trail
to a warehouse here in D.C.

One we believe belongs to the
Morgana Logistics Corporation.

- That sounds like terrific progress.
- You’re half right.

We seized a mountain
of evidence... a mountain range.

Proof that thousands of American
companies that appear legitimate

are actually fronts for shipping fraud.

So what’s the problem?

The problem is,

is that we have only one arrest
to show for it.

The place was empty except for one man.

Well, if he’s high-ranking enough,

sometimes one is all you need.

I don’t know how he ranks.

In fact, we don’t know anything
about him, including his name.

- He won’t talk to us.
- I see. That is unusual.

Tell you what. Send me what you have.

Photo, prints, DNA, whatever.

Think you can find out who he is?

Most criminals using aliases
leave some traces somewhere.

You just have to know where to look.

Perhaps I can dig up something.

Sorry about that,

but I’m back, and I’m starving.

Dembe, maybe after I make a few calls,

we should go grab
some of those falafel sandwiches

at that Lebanese place we used to love.

Andrea, will you join?
The more the merrier.

No, thank you. I’ve got a party to plan.

Man, you work fast.

Well, it’s easy to work fast
when you don’t find anything.

Look, the task force
that Harold Cooper runs

is not only a mystery
to those outside of the agency,

but to those within it, as well.

Every agent I spoke to
has no working knowledge

of the task force or its operations.

I mean, I’ve worked black ops
that were less opaque.

Jordan, you wouldn’t be here
if that’s all you had.

Cooper’s overseen
maybe 200 criminal cases

over the last 10 years.

I mean, that kind of output?

Makes me wonder
where his intel’s coming from.

Those cases are originating
from somewhere.

Or someone. You have a theory?

No, but I may have a lead.

I don’t have access
to the classified archives,

but I can see the file numbers
and the contact info

of the senior agents
connected to those cases.

And how does that help me?

One got my attention.

I don’t know anything about it,

except it wasn’t
a criminal investigation.

It was some kind of other proceeding.

But Cooper was involved.

So were three other assistant
directors at the Bureau.

Four assistant directors? On one file?

Mm-hmm. Must have been important.

What are the chances I can get someone

who was there to tell me about it?

Well, be careful out there.

You do not want to finesse
a Bureau official

into divulging classified data.

No lying. You have my word.

I won’t say anything I wouldn’t
say on the record, under oath.

I just need something,

any thread that sheds some light
on what Cooper’s up to.

Raymond. You found something?

You should take
Massachusetts Avenue to North Capitol.

Constitution’s faster.

You just started
driving yourself around.

How do you know which way is faster?

- Reddington?
- Yeah. Yes, Harold. Sorry.

I had some information
forwarded your way.

So, according to my sources in Paris,

the man in your custody
is Henri Guillame

with an address in the Marais.

- You found his name.
- I found a name,

along with the name Johannes Baard,

a lifelong citizen of South Africa.

And Peter Roe, a British expat.

Maxwell Voll, a German national
from Dusseldorf.

I mean, there are others,
but you get the point.

Incredible. He’s a dozen people,

and yet we still have no idea who he is.

Well, it’s not unprecedented.
There are 195 countries.

I myself could produce
a legal passport for many,

if not most, if necessary.

So, we’re no closer to
identifying our mystery man.

On the contrary.

I think that’s exactly
what you are. Closer.

I’d imagine the governments
who issued those passports

could shed more light on the man,

including comings and goings.

We appreciate the assist.

While we have you, any progress

putting more permanent
security in place?

Do you still need Dembe?

Just for a little while longer.

See? No traffic.

Congressman Hudson.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

Mr. Shaeffer.

- What’s that?
- A little surprise.

Do you like surprises? I don’t.

As a general rule,
I like to know what I’m in for.

This one I certainly never saw coming.

A classified proceeding.

Attended by no fewer than four
assistant directors of the FBI.

I look forward to this
pastrami sandwich all week.

- You’re ruining it.
- Fine.

Maybe I should take this
to Harold Cooper.

What is it? It’s not a transcript.

I’m launching an investigation.

Into a classified hearing? Good luck.

You’ve known me a long time, Shaeffer.

Would you describe me
as a guy who depends on luck?

What do you want, Arthur?

I’m here to give, not to take.

I’m offering my assistance.

If people start asking questions
about that hearing,

you’re gonna need
a few well-placed friends.

You’re on the edge.

If this is a transcript,
a leaked transcript

of a classified Bureau hearing?

You’re the one
who’s gonna need help, not me.

Well, I can see I’ve made a mistake.

I’m not asking you to tell me anything.

I just want you to know
what I’m working on,

give you a chance
to get your ducks in line

- before hunting season begins.
- I appreciate the warning.

So I’ll return the favor...

If you so much as whisper Zuma
on the Congressional record,

the first call you’ll get
won’t be from me.

It’ll be from the Attorney General.

Hmm.

Good to see you, Mike.

Arthur. Aren’t you forgetting something?

Keep it.

You got a second?

Of course. Come in.

We’ve been reaching out
to the federal authorities

in the countries that issued
passports to our suspect.

- Any luck?
- Nothing.

Looks like he doesn’t have a
criminal record in any of them.

And all the addresses
are either fake or unoccupied.

But I started thinking
about something Reddington said.

Maybe we can’t penetrate the aliases,

but that doesn’t mean
they can’t be useful.

We don’t know who he is,
but we do know where he went.

- The comings and goings.
- Exactly.

Every time he traveled internationally,

a record was stamped on those passports.

And when you look at them together,

they have one location in common.

All of his aliases have been
to Paris in the past 14 months.

Maybe that’s his home base.

Reach out to the French again.

Let’s make Paris our primary focus.

Okay, we know our suspect
flew to Paris repeatedly.

So where did he go when he landed?

The French police contacted
the rental car companies

that service Charles de Gaulle.

Turns out, every alias used by
our mystery man rented a car...

Each one from a different company.

We cross-referenced the GPS data
from all of them.

And you got a hit?

Look at the overlap.

At some point, every car

was driven to this one location...

A building owned by a company
called LT&Z Unlimited.

I’m not sure what the space is.

Maybe some kind of liquor warehouse?

Those are armed guards
patrolling the perimeter.

Their prosecutors are requesting
a search warrant as we speak.

Ressler, Malik, I want you to
be there when the raid happens.

We may finally be getting somewhere.

Two units.

One flanks from the right,
and we hit from the left.

We’ll be inside before
they know we are here.

It’s still warm.

Where did they go?
How did they know to leave?

Someone warned them.

Well, they didn’t have time
to take or destroy anything.

Look at this.

These are just like Kavanaugh’s office.

Oh, my God.

Look at how huge it is.

The raid outside Paris was bigger

than anything we could have imagined.

In fact, this may be the biggest
case you’ve ever given us, Red.

There’s a network
of thousands of corporations

with legitimate documentation,

employees operating
with government-issued IDs

and using legitimately
purchased equipment

to move illicit goods around the world.

And this warehouse in Paris
seems to be the hub,

the headquarters where
fake companies are developed,

managed, and tracked
by the larger organization.

Was there anything else?

We didn’t get any arrests to speak of,

but the digital maps we found
revealed the locations

for dozens of satellite
regional outposts.

Those outposts develop the intel

being fed to the Paris headquarters.

With this information,
we’ll be able to shut down

the biggest criminal shipping
operation in the world.

And we did it without any
cooperation from our suspect.

Ah, yes, your mystery man.

Whatever happened to him?

He got his wish. He was taken to
central booking and arraigned.

Given the flight risk, the judge
set an obscene amount of bail.

He’ll be in jail until his trial.

Well, thanks for the update.
And congratulations, Harold.

Here we are, Dembe.
Home in time for mocktails.

That was quite the day.

Just like old times.

Why did you really want me to tag along?

Well, Harold was worried about me.

It seemed like a good opportunity

to make him feel better

and for you and I
to spend a little time.

I miss you too, Raymond.

Helen Swinton, please.

Counselor!

I need your services.

Yes, you have a new client.

He was just arraigned in federal court.

I want him out. Today.

Oh, and, by the way,
I hear we’re going to need

an obscene amount of money for bail.

We just hit Morgana’s
regional hub in Hong Kong.

Locals say it was completely shut down.

Morocco and Greece are the same.

They’ve apprehended a few suspects,

but they appear
to be low-level employees.

They can’t shed any light
on Morgana itself.

Main Justice is gonna
have to give us our due

for taking down
an operation of this size.

I agree, even without
convictions to show for it.

Harold Cooper.

What? When?!

Apparently, our suspect made bail.

Geez, that was quick.
What did it cost him?

His attorney just posted
$3 million in cash.

He’s out.

Mr. Kavanaugh.

Please get in.

I said get in.

Are you gonna kill me?

Wow. What’s all this?

This is the Morgana
Logistics Corporation.

At least, the key principals

from the regional outposts
around the world.

I had them flown in.

Why?

Why don’t you grab yourself
a drink, Charlie?

Yeah, yeah. Sure.

Everyone?

Thank you for coming.

I know you weren’t given a choice...

But still, I’m glad you’re here.

First, some difficult news.

As we speak, the FBI

and a legion of international
law enforcement agencies

are shutting down

all of Morgana’s operational facilities.

It’s hard to imagine. I know.

But don’t worry.
All your employees are safe.

Fortunately, I knew of the raids
in advance and made provisions.

For them and for all of you.

What can I say to you about Morgana?

Of all the enterprises I’ve designed

and maintained
as part of my organization,

it stands as one of
the crowning achievements.

If you’ll forgive a moment
of braggadocio,

I must say it’s a logistical
marvel to rival the pyramids.

A wonder of the world,
but one designed to be hidden,

wondrous precisely because
it exists unseen in plain sight.

The most complex and sophisticated

shipping network in history.

Every year, moving goods of more value

than the GDP of some
first-world countries.

A monumental effort,

accomplished,
as the greatest things are,

with singular vision
and collective action.

We did that. All of us.

It’s hard to believe it’s over.

All these years.

This was more than an enterprise,

it was our lives,
and we lived them together.

I’m so proud...

That word doesn’t really suffice...

I’m honored to have stood beside you all

as we discovered
this creation of ours together.

And together, we made a fortune.

A fortune that I have grown

and will now be sharing
with you, my partners.

Our work together may be done,

but none of you will ever
have to work again.

John Singer Sargent once painted
a portrait of Henry James

that was immediately deemed
a masterpiece.

But in 1914, at the Royal Academy,

a political activist took a meat cleaver

to the face of the painting.

And when a reporter asked James

how he felt about the vandalism,

he said, "I naturally feel
very scalped and disfigured,

but you will be glad to know

that I seem to be pronounced curable."

And that’s where we are now.

Our masterpiece has been scalped
and disfigured.

But all of us will live.

And all of us will share in the cure.

So, let’s celebrate.

Please, enjoy the food.

Enjoy the drinks.

Mmm.

And enjoy the entertainment.

Zuma?

One word. One word and it was enough

to break this whole thing wide open.

And I got Shaeffer to say it

without making
a single misrepresentation.

What does it mean?

Mm.

Not what. Who.

Apparently, the FBI brought on
a new agent a few years ago.

An agent named Dembe Zuma.

What does Zuma have to do
with the classified hearing?

I don’t know, and I don’t have
the clearance to find out.

But I don’t need clearance
to make an educated guess.

Nixon got a copy
of Zuma’s official FBI photo.

We ran an image search,

with the help of a source
he uses for that kind of thing.

You ever seen that photo?

- Never.
- Mm.

A photojournalist snapped it
almost six years ago.

Ran on a Wednesday in a local rag.

The man in the back of the car.

The paper said it was
Raymond Reddington.

Is it?

I think so.

Now look past him.

To the man standing by the car.

Is that Zuma?

An associate of Raymond Reddington

becomes a Special Agent for the FBI.

That sounds like something

that might require a classified hearing.

The kind attended by four
assistant directors of the FBI.

Boom.

The minute I saw the name
Raymond Reddington,

everything started
to fall right into place.

Harold Cooper adopted the daughter

of another former FBI agent...
Elizabeth Keen.

Keen. Why do I know that name?

Because she went on the run with
Reddington about 10 years ago.

It was national news.

And then Donald Ressler.

Blair Foster told me about him.

He’s connected to Cooper
and his task force.

For years, in the early 2000s,
Ressler was the Special Agent

in charge of the hunt for Reddington.

All roads lead to Reddington.

Yeah. He’s the key.
They’re all connected to him.

All these years, we’ve never
been able to catch him.

This is why.

Raymond Reddington

has corrupted a task force
within the FBI.

And I’m gonna tear it apart
at the joints.