Original subtitles

Previously on The Equalizer...

(grunts)

You are Colton Fisk.

Fisk? You mean the guy that got all those agents killed

the last time you worked with him?

Yeah, that's him.

(screams)

(grunts)

MEL: What happened? Fisk happened.

You think I, uh, carry a flamethrower

around with me just in case?

Nothing you do would surprise me.

You may be happy playing those games...

...but I'm not.

(church bell tolling)

(indistinct chatter)

(grunts)

(men speaking Dutch)

(grunting)

(church bell continues tolling)

FISK: Mall Cop.

Bring coffee for me?

You call me Mall Cop again, you gonna be wearing this.

Don't be like that.

I got a job for you.

Imagine my excitement.

I think you'll find this worthy of your time.

What do you want, Fisk?

I need you to make contact with an ex-MI6 agent.

Rick Dawson?

As you know, he's been underground the past few years

after going rogue and killing a potential asset.

Yeah, Diego Alcazar.

Well, how am I supposed to find him?

From what I hear, this guy's a ghost.

He surfaced once, about six months ago in Brussels.

Got into a street brawl and almost killed four civilians.

That doesn't sound like the Rick I knew.

We have information that leads us to believe

that Dawson is heading to Paris.

What's in Paris? An ex-MI6 agent,

Charles Batley. He was recently murdered there.

Batley was one of Dawson's closest friends.

Okay, so you think

Rick is gonna want answers and poke his head out.

Wet work was not in our deal.

We don't want you to kill him. Batley had a file containing

the location of enriched plutonium rings.

They were stolen out of Russia and never recovered.

So you think Rick knows where the file is?

If Dawson does turn up in Paris,

your mission is to enlist his aid to retrieve that file.

What makes you think he would agree to help?

Because you're gonna let him know,

if he helps retrieve the file,

the CIA and MI6

are prepared to forgive his past indiscretion.

He can come in from the cold.

One last question.

Why me?

I think we both know the answer to that.

Okay,

so where you going?

'Cause that face is beat! (laughs)

Thanks.

I'm, uh, I'm trying some new looks

for my final interview tomorrow at Chevaux Sauvages boutique

for the intern position.

Congratulations. I know how much you want that.

Oh, my gosh, who wouldn't? I mean,

it'll look great on college applications. Plus, I'll learn

a ton about business, working in the fashion space,

marketing. Employee discount

doesn't hurt, either. Ooh, you already know.

(both laugh)

Um, by the way, Mom called on her way to the airport.

Apparently, she's...

Going out of town.

Not just out of town,

overseas.

Did she tell you what for?

No. Only that it's classified.

I got the same thing.

Mm.

Listen, there's nothing to worry about.

She'll be back before we know it.

Right now, your job is to concentrate

on landing that internship.

(soft chuckle) Okay.

(sighs)

Wish me luck?

You don't need no luck. Slay.

(laughs)

No way.

Is that our...

Dream Connecticut farmhouse,

aka "the one that got away"? Yes, it is.

And it's back on the market.

Oh, my God.

Remember how badly we wanted it?

We were gonna grow old there. (groans)

And I had to go screw it all up by faking my death.

Oh, we didn't need that very, very large deposit anyway.

(laughs)

I'm joking. You were gonna go to prison for life.

Yeah, I know, but, geez, come on, look at those views. Mm.

I don't know, you want to go take a look?

Maybe second time's the charm.

Is it really back on the market? Mm-hmm.

Okay, yeah. (laughs)

(cell phone ringing)

Hey, Rob. I got your text.

Yeah, looks like we're chasing a ghost.

So did, uh, Fisk give you any leads

on how you're supposed to track

this Rick Dawson guy down? None.

When did you first meet this guy, anyway?

Uh, several years back.

We were both undercover in Panama.

What was the mission?

We were both trying to recruit an asset,

international arms dealer Diego Alcazar.

Oh, that sounds like a treasure trove of intel

for whatever agency bagged this guy. MEL: Wait a minute,

did you and Rick know you were working the same guy?

I made Rick as MI6 pretty quickly,

but I don't think he ever caught on I was CIA.

But someone did.

One morning, I was recalled

before I could get to Diego.

You don't know what happened?

Not really.

Just that, when I left,

Rick killed Diego.

He killed the guy he was supposed to recruit?

MI6 couldn't have been happy about that.

They disavowed him, and he's been a ghost ever since.

Paris is a big town.

Where should we start?

Well, shouldn't be too hard to lure him out.

Every man has needs, babe.

(laughs)

I love how you can reduce all guys to, like, their "needs,"

like we're some sort of primitive, single-celled...

Yours are vintage guitars

and Japanese denim

and sexy, badass bar owners.

Okay, all right. Look, we're not, uh, looking for me.

We're looking for this, uh, Rick Dawson fellow, right?

All right. Any recollection on what Rick liked to eat, drink,

any hobbies, meds?

He was very fond of caviar,

aged whiskey, and Kobe steaks.

Add those to my list.

You know, actually,

he would go out of his way

to get these cigars. Um...

Premio De Leon.

Okay. That sounds pretty rare. (typing on keyboard)

Might work.

Yeah. Only one place in Paris

stocks them. Le Fumoir Parisien.

Okay. We'll start there.

(door bells jingle)

(men speaking French)

Premio De Leon.

Merci.

Good to see you, Rick.

"Good" wasn't the first word that jumped to mind.

You know, from day one,

I thought the real estate was beneath you.

It took me a minute, but I finally put together

you were CIA.

I take it you knew I was MI6?

I did.

Figured.

Still, I'm a little surprised

that they sent you, of all people,

to kill me.

I'm not here to kill you. (chuckles)

That's not why I'm here at all.

Those guys that came after me in Brussels...

They're CIA, too?

I was told they were civilians.

(laughs) Well, then someone lied.

Like I told you, that's not why I'm here.

Then why are you here?

I need your help.

There's a file that contains the location

of a hidden cache of plutonium rings.

Charles Batley has that file.

And because Charles and I were friends,

you think I have it?

Or know where to find it.

Why should I help you?

Because I have a deal that you definitely can't refuse.

You help me find that file,

all will be forgiven with the CIA and MI6.

You can go home.

In my experience,

when something sounds too good to be true,

it normally is.

(grunting)

(panting)

(knife clatters)

You believe me now?

♪ ♪

You know, when you vanished without a word that morning,

I feared the worst.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have taken off like that,

but my cover was blown. I was called back to Langley.

There was just no time to say goodbye.

So...

will you help me?

Because I know you.

Deep down, you're a patriot.

And those plutonium rings in the wrong hands

means a global disaster.

I'll help you...

but I don't know where the file is.

Never even heard about it till now.

I just got to town a couple of hours ago

to look into Charles's murder.

Went to his place, it was already being picked over

by police and God knows who else.

Would Charles keep something that valuable

in his place anyway?

Charles kept a secret apartment

under the name of one of his aliases.

I was heading there next.

(indistinct chatter)

♪ I'm going crazy... ♪

Seriously, Dee, you killed it.

You gave strong interviews, your GPA is fire,

and you have an amazing personality to boot.

(chuckles) Thanks. Impressive.

There were a lot of candidates,

but you stood out. Does that mean...?

You've got the internship.

Oh! (giggles) Oh, my gosh. I-I'm so excited.

Thank you. (chuckles) I started as an intern

here, too, and I can tell you

it made all the difference when I applied

to the Fashion Merchandising Program at Parsons.

Wow, so you work here and study there?

It's tough, but 100% worth it.

Again, thank you so much for the opportunity.

Sit tight. I'm just going to grab your handbook

and run everything by our owner, Rowena.

Okay.

Rowena.

♪ ♪

(conversing indistinctly)

Just a few forms for you to complete.

Plan on being here tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. sharp.

You'll be working in the stockroom.

Oh.

Um...

But I thought the internship was a sales position.

Even possible styling.

Is that something that I have to work up to?

There's so much to learn back there. Uh...

Inventory, organizing...

No disrespect, but

is there something you're not telling me?

Why am I really being relegated to the back?

(music playing faintly) Someone's inside.

Would Charles have rented out this apartment to anyone else?

It's possible. I haven't spoken to Charles since I went ghost.

I didn't want to risk it. No. Wait, wait, wait.

Let me handle this.

(music stops)

Bonjour.

Bonjour. Parlez-vous anglais?

Yes. May I help you?

Sorry about the intrusion,

but I was just walking by, and I was telling my boyfriend

that my grandmother grew up in this apartment.

How sweet. You want to look around?

Would you mind?

They say a good life

is but a collection of memories, no?

Couldn't agree with you more.

Thank you...

Cosette. Cosette.

So, how long have you lived in this place?

Oh, not long, the apartment just came on the market.

I moved in yesterday.

As you can see, I am still unpacking.

Uh, just one more request?

Could I use the loo? Mm.

(chuckles)

This is actually a nice distraction from unpacking.

Would you like a coffee?

Would love one. Thank you.

(grunting)

And you wonder why Americans have a bad rep here.

Well, clearly,

she wasn't here for the old-world views.

RICK: Anything point to who she's working for?

Nothing. RICK: Well, whoever she is,

it's a good bet that she's after the same thing we are,

Charles's file. ROBYN: Well, maybe she was part of that group

who came after you in Brussels. RICK: Hmm.

The CIA can't possibly be the only players

who think you can lead them to that file.

All I know is we need to find it before someone else shows up.

Well, you knew Charles better than anyone.

Where should we look?

Okay, there was this one time

that he recovered a crown jewel in Russia,

and he hid it inside of a wall to keep it safe

until he was extracted.

Maybe old habits die hard.

This wall has been patched over.

It's a claim ticket.

There's no shop name or address.

Well, if it was in his go-bag, it must be important.

There's a couple sets of prints on there.

One is probably Charles, and...

Probably whoever gave him the ticket.

RICK: Well, there's no way she's the second set of prints.

But if we can ID her,

maybe we can figure out who else is looking for the file.

(cell phone beeps, line rings)

Rob, what's up?

Harry, I'm sending you two sets of prints.

I need you to run them.

(typing on keyboard)

Nothing so far on the gun. I'll keep running them, though,

against, uh, international databases.

Hey, Rob, watch your back with this Dawson guy.

I wouldn't take my eyes off him, if I were you.

That won't be a problem.

(groans) No, not this guy.

What? ROBYN: You got a hit on the other prints?

HARRY: (sighs) Unfortunately, yes. Freddie Walker.

Who's that?

He's this grey hat hacker I used to have

a fair amount of respect for,

until he got famous making a Trojan horse virus

that he made by ripping off my code.

Do I hear the little green-eyed monster?

I'm not jealous. I'm a victim.

Freddie Walker mean anything to you?

Sure. He used to work for Charles. Was his go-to hacker.

Harry,

Freddie Walker was to Charles what you are to me.

You see how he copies me? Oh.

Freddie works out of a computer repair shop

not too far from here.

Lead the way.

You clock the bogey?

Top coat, grey beard. 40 yards back. Yeah.

RICK: Technically, it's a waistcoat.

You want to engage? No. Don't need the heat.

I got him.

Okay. He's gone.

Do you recognize him? Nope.

Probably one of the people looking for that file.

Or maybe for me.

Come on. We're almost there.

(doorbell chimes)

Someone beat us to it.

ROBYN: The marks on his wrists,

color of his face, his hair, I'd say Freddie

was waterboarded before he was shot.

...45 caliber.

Police report said that Charles was killed

with a .45 caliber bullet.

I think we can assume Charles didn't cooperate,

since they hit Freddie next.

Well, one thing's for sure--

whoever else knows about this file,

they're willing to kill for it.

Do you think Freddie gave up the file?

One way to find out.

We still have the claim ticket.

Here.

Hey.

Yep, yep. Okay.

(laptop chimes)

RICK: There's no way that Charles

would keep this file on a laptop. It's just too obvious.

But he went to the trouble of hiding it,

which tells me there's something important on it.

HARRY: Oh, my God.

I mean, and that finished basement? Yeah. Oh...

I mean, it just screams "man cave."

Or "woman cave."

Well, all right. Aka "armory."

Are you kidding? With three acres in the back,

we could build you a shooting range. (laughs)

Babe, drinks on the porch in our 80s...

You looking as beautiful as ever,

me having not lost a single hair.

Okay, maybe a single hair, but, like, kind of in the back

where you can't really see it. (laughs)

Sounds good.

It does, it does, it does. (squeals)

(phone rings)

Hello?

JEN (over phone): Hi, there. It's Jen.

You seemed to connect with the property,

so I wanted to let you know that

there were four offers.

F-- What? Already?

Yeah. The good news is

the owner is emotionally invested in who they sell to,

and you were the only couple who didn't mention

tearing down walls, so,

if you want it, I'm confident it's yours.

Let's do it. Okay, I'll send you the paperwork.

Just sign it and get it back to me.

Okay, okay, will do, thanks. (whoops)

(both laugh) Yeah.

We have never shaken hands

like that before. No, I kind of dug it.

Oh, yeah, me, too.

It's new. (laughs)

We should, uh, practice shaking hands like that

in every room of our new house.

Wow, honey. (exhales, laughs) (laughs)

(phone rings) Oh, hey. (clears throat)

Hey, Rob.

Harry, I need you to tap into Charles's laptop.

I take it, uh, Freddie is not cooperating?

Let's just say you don't have to ever worry about Freddie

stealing from you again.

Okay, listen,

take your phone and the computer and connect it to Wi-Fi.

A thorough search could take hours, but I'll

let you know if I find anything.

ROBYN: Okay, just make sure you wipe it

when you're done.

(sighs) This is gonna take a beat.

We can't hang around here. I know a place.

(vacuum whirring)

Hey.

How'd it go?

I, uh, I got the job. First day is tomorrow.

Really? That's wonderful.

Hold on.

What's wrong?

I just have a lot on my mind.

Oh, girl, you cannot get away with that.

Come on, now. Spill it.

(sighs)

They're making me work in the stockroom

because of my braids.

Excuse me?

Mm-hmm. The owner says they're "too ethnic"

and not a good fit with the Chevaux Sauvages culture.

Let me guess, if you want to be out front,

you're gonna have to wear your hair straight?

Well, my darling, that is not only

a flagrant act of racism,

it also happens to be against the law.

I thought so, too, so I looked it up.

The CROWN Act, passed in 2019, prohibits this exact kind

of discrimination based on hair. What are you gonna do?

My first thought was to tell them off,

but... (sighs)

...interning at Chevaux Sauvages is a huge opportunity.

The owner's plugged into the boards

of all these prestigious colleges.

(sighs)

Yeah.

But Chevaux Sauvages's internship

is not the only one with cachet.

Yeah.

But I need an internship

to graduate next year, and it might be too late

to find anything else for the summer. Plus...

...I really wanted this.

I know.

I'm sorry.

I know it hurts.

What do you think I should do?

Only you can make that decision,

but, whatever you choose, make sure

it sits right with you.

You're the one who's gonna have to live with it.

RICK: It's okay.

This place is safe.

Yeah, for now.

I'm gonna call my connect at the CIA about Cosette.

Maybe he can give us some answers about

the other players looking for this file. (line rings)

(phone rings)

McCall. Got the picture you sent of that woman.

And? And nothing.

I sent it to my best guy, he did a deep dive, and nada.

Whoever she's working for has enough means

and knowhow to scrub her from the face of the Earth.

What about the laptop?

Nothing yet,

but I'll let you know if anything pops.

McCall, find that file, and find it fast.

The wolves are at the door.

RICK: There's Grey Beard again.

He's definitely tracking us.

It's okay. Hey.

You want a drink?

Let me guess,

Aikawa 19?

(laughs)

You remembered.

ROBYN: Remember that time we were in Panama,

and we were at the San Blas Islands

at the bed-and-breakfast and the DVD got stuck in the player?

(both laugh)

It was one of those, uh,

old black and white PI movies.

We must've watched that damn movie a dozen times.

Wait, remember how the PI gets the bad guy in the end?

Oh, right, um...

He shoots his girlfriend in the shoulder in order to kill him.

And then he says... (both laugh)

BOTH: "Love hurts, eh?"

(both laugh)

We had some fun, right? Ah, we did.

Mmm.

Rick.

Yeah?

What really happened with Diego?

Why kill the person you were sent to recruit?

I did it for you.

For me?

Yeah.

We had, um,

just spent the night at your hotel.

And I wanted to surprise you

with breakfast in bed.

When I got back, the hotel door was ajar,

and inside there was a man with a gun. It was Diego.

(both grunting)

RICK: I figured he got onto my cover

and followed me to your hotel to kill me.

I wasn't thinking clearly.

I just knew that I had to

keep you from being collateral damage.

I knew shooting Diego was a violation

of my orders, but I didn't care.

The only thing that mattered to me

was you.

But, when I went to check on you... (sighs)

...you were gone.

Rick, um...

You killed Diego to protect me?

You're CIA, right?

Diego was probably there to kill you, not me.

But even then, I didn't regret killing him,

because it meant you were safe.

Rick. Look, I may not have known your real name,

but I knew you, and those feelings...

...they were real.

But, um...

that was a long time ago.

(sighs)

It might have been a long time ago, but...

that doesn't mean those feelings are gone.

(phone buzzing)

(sighs)

ROBYN: Hey, any luck?

Yeah, so, after scrubbing

Charles's, uh, laptop and coming up empty,

I noticed his interesting choice in wallpaper.

It's sheet music.

Only, it's, uh, not very musical.

It's just a bunch of random notes on a scale.

So it's a code hiding in plain sight.

Yeah, exactly.

So, while there are eight letter notes

that repeat in a traditional Western scale,

if you assign them numbers, that gives you

24 numerical values across a three-octave range.

And when you converted the music?

Yeah, so, it appears to be coordinates.

Specifically, to an old church just outside of Paris.

(church bell tolling)

Okay, I'm pretty sure I saw that spotter back on the road.

So we better hustle.

This place is huge.

How the hell are we gonna find this damn thing?

(sighs) Room by room.

Hold up.

As long as I've known Charles,

he's always worn a neck charm of Saint Michael.

This has been repaired.

Another patch job?

Let's find out.

(laughs) This is it.

Rick Dawson.

(laughs)

Diego Alcazar.

You're alive.

And here to collect my debt.

Starting with this.

Recognize this?

Your gift to me three years ago.

Well, it wouldn't be a party without souvenirs.

(laughs softly)

I hope you thanked him, Señora,

but when the bullet didn't kill me,

I damn sure thought the fall would.

But when I washed up a few miles down shore,

a local family took me in and nursed me back to health.

And I'm sure you repaid their hospitality.

Believe me, I took no pleasure killing them.

But I couldn't risk anyone knowing I survived.

I needed time to recover,

regroup,

make all the moves that allowed me

to come back stronger.

So, I thank you for that, Rick.

A fruit basket would have sufficed.

(laughs softly) Better yet,

a bullet of your own.

You, too, Señora.

Three years overdue.

Well, I'm partial to the fruit option.

Both of you, on your knees.

Take care of them.

Hey, I have a tricky knee.

You mind terribly if we die standing today?

(grunting)

ROBYN: (grunts) Fall back.

MAN: Get down, McCall!

ROBYN: It's Grey Beard.

You with Fisk?

Yeah, get out of here. I'll cover you.

(grunts)

Leave him. He's gone.

We gotta go.

(people shouting)

(car door slams, engine starts)

What you waiting for, Mall Cop?

Get in.

You knew Diego was alive.

I wasn't sure until today.

I've been tracking recent spikes in arms trading

among several of Diego's old contacts, but yeah,

I had my suspicions.

And you thought you'd use me to draw Rick out of hiding,

knowing Diego was gonna make a play for him.

Getting that file back was and is priority number one.

But if you could grab Diego in the process,

why not get the twofer?

Just business, Mall Cop. Not personal.

For me, anyway.

You could've got her killed.

(laughs)

Mall Cop can handle herself.

Plus, I thought my agent would grab Diego

before he could get to either of you.

Yeah, well, he didn't, did he?

And why does he keep calling you Mall Cop?

Because he's an ass.

You lied, and you used my history with Rick

to leverage this whole operation.

Welcome to the wonderful world of espionage.

Be mad later.

Right now, we need to get that file back from Diego.

All right, there he is.

(engine revving)

(tires screech)

Bulletproof glass. Worth every penny.

Is it missile-proof?

Buckle up!

(tires screeching)

You know how to fly a drone, Mall Cop?

Drone? Is it armed with anything?

FISK: AGM-114s.

I'm starting to warm up to you.

We need him alive.

I take that back.

(tires screech)

(grunts)

(indistinct shouting)

(indistinct shouting)

♪ ♪

(gunshot) (shouts)

♪ ♪

(gunshots)

Diego!

DIEGO: (grunts) Señora McCall!

Let me leave with the file

and I release your boyfriend unharmed.

FISK: McCall?

The file is the mission.

DIEGO: What's it going to be?

The file or his life?

Choice is yours.

Do what you have to do, McCall.

After all...

...love hurts.

Ah!

(panting) You okay? (groans) Ah!

Yeah.

(grunts)

I could use one of those Premio De Leons right about now.

Those things will kill you. (laughs)

I got you. Come on.

(doorbells jingle)

Hey, Delilah. Clock in and I'll get you started.

Oh, actually, I'm not taking the internship.

I just wanted

to tell you in person.

Seriously? After all the interviews and applications?

I thought you wanted this.

Yeah, I thought I did, too.

But, uh, I know what I'm giving up.

And this internship, it means nothing

if I have to compromise my identity.

It doesn't sit right

with my heart, and frankly,

it shouldn't with yours, either.

I mean, honestly, Stacey,

I'm surprised that you can stomach

working for Rowena yourself.

Thing is, is I don't have a choice.

This job, along with student loans,

is how I pay for school.

There have got to be other jobs out there

where you don't have to sacrifice your dignity.

It's more than that.

Rowena's flexible enough with my shifts

that I'm able to attend classes and still work.

It's exactly what I need.

I don't like it, but...

I try and tell myself, "This is how I'm paying my dues."

I hope it all works out for you.

Good luck, with everything.

ROWENA: What are you doing out here?

I thought we said stockroom.

Don't worry, you won't see me anymore.

I decided to look for an environment

that aligns with my values.

What's this girl talking about?

Nothing. Just another entitled intern

who's apparently too good for the job.

Not too good, too proud.

Rowena here feels that my hair is unfit for the showroom floor.

Which is not only racist, but a violation of the law.

Rowena, is this true?

Of course not.

This girl is lying.

See? I have no problem with Stacey at the floor.

Isn't that right, Stacey?

Um, Rowena's right.

I don't know what she's talking about.

Wow. (scoffs quietly)

Whatever.

(doorbells jingle)

♪ ♪

♪ You must remember this ♪

♪ A kiss is still a kiss... ♪

So...

I heard MI6 reached out.

Got your life back.

I do.

But there's something missing.

Come to England.

We could give this thing between us a real chance.

Two spies...

riding off into the sunset?

Yeah. Why not?

Because people with a mountain of secrets

don't live happily ever after.

With me, you wouldn't have to keep secrets.

You could tell me as much

or as little as you want,

and I would always understand.

As tempting as that is,

it's more than that.

I have a situation at home that I really need to figure out.

He's a lucky man.

It's good to see you, Rick.

I'm glad to know you're okay.

If, um...

...if the wind ever changes.

(laughs softly)

I know where to find you.

♪ As time ♪

♪ Goes ♪

♪ By. ♪

Done.

All right. All right.

I guess we should send it in, huh?

Yeah, guess we should.

Okay. Clean air, here we come.

(sighs) Sprawling lawn.

Beautiful view of the lake. Yeah.

Okay.

Harry, I hate it. Wow.

What? I'm...

I'm sorry, I-I can't live there.

Unbelievable.

I know. Are you mad?

No. I hate it, too.

No, I was only pretending to like it

because of how much you loved it back in the day.

Well, I was only pretending to like it because you seemed

so that sad that we missed out.

Like, that life that we wanted slipped away.

It did. Well, then, we got another life. Well...

And I like this life better.

Me, too. And you know what? (laughs)

This house, it ain't all that.

No, are you kid-- butcher-block countertops?

What is this, the 1800s?

Yeah, and all that grass?

My hay fever's going crazy just thinking about it.

And the commute? Oh, forget about it.

Two hours back and forth to the sanctum?

No, thanks. No. You know what?

Kill it.

Dead.

(laughs) Whew.

Come on. Aw.

Oh.

That's a relief. Yeah.

Hey. Can I tell you something?

Mm. Home, for me,

is any place you are.

Aw, that's sweet. Yeah.

Aw. Just, you know,

can w-we still practice that n-new handshake of ours?

What room would you like to practice in first?

McCall!

Diego's in stable condition

and en route to the black site as we speak.

There's only one problem.

The SIM card we got from Diego was blank.

You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?

You got Diego.

Take the win. Take the win?

The mission was getting those plutonium rings.

And making sure they were disposed of for good.

So that no one

could get their hands on them.

That's not exactly something you bury in your backyard.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were

purposely disregarding your mission objective.

You give me imperfect intel, you get imperfect results.

You almost got me killed.

It wasn't personal, McCall.

This is the job.

Not the way I do it.

I'm tired of you manipulating me, Fisk.

Until you're ready to start dealing with me openly

and honestly, this thing, me and you,

it doesn't work.

Are you trying to blackmail me?

Call it "enticement."

Well played, Mall Cop.

Well played.

Hey. I didn't hear you come in last night.

I didn't want to wake you up.

Oh, hey, babe.

I'm glad you're home. Ah. Me, too.

There's no place else I'd rather be.

I told your mom what went down at the boutique.

Yeah.

Hey.

I'm really proud of you.

You spoke truth to power and made a difference.

(doorbell rings)

I got it.

Hey, Delilah.

Nice hairdo.

Must be your day off.

I deserve that.

What are you doing here?

I came to apologize

for what happened at the store yesterday.

You needed someone

to have your back, and I couldn't.

Couldn't or wouldn't?

Truth? Maybe a little bit of both?

I need this job.

I have a mountain of student debt,

and Rowena gives me the schedule I need to make my classes.

And in return, you enable all her racist impulses?

I'm just doing what I have to do to survive.

Yeah. Maybe.

But at what cost?

STACEY: Again...

...I just wanted to say sorry.

Well, I appreciate that.

But maybe you should save it

for the next girl of color you let down.

(exhales)

Well done, Dee.

Well done indeed.

Seriously, I'm proud of you.

Standing up for yourself, sticking to your guns.

(laughs softly) Thank you.

Captioning sponsored by CBS

and TOYOTA.

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org