All language subtitles for Chicago.PD.S13E01

.

- This intelligence unit
is hereby disbanded.

- I'll get your badge.

You just haven't
accepted it yet.

Your team's badges,
they're already mine.

[gunshot]
- [groans]

- Gun!
- Gun! Take cover!

[indistinct shouting]

- They're continuing their
investigation into our unit.

- So it's--it's over?

- We'll have to wait and see.

[somber music]

* *

[mug clatters lightly]

[exhales sharply]

[grunts softly

* *

[sighs]

[knock at door]

- Morning.

Word is IAD Commander Devlin's
out of the office today

because he's attending the
Gold Star Memorial donor event.

- Mm.

- He'll be there all morning,
then be shaking hands

and taking donors out
until sundown.

I say you catch
him beforehand.

- Mm-hmm.

- Maybe find
a few more syllables by then,

some complete sentences.

- Okay.

- You want me to go with you?
- No.

- The man is risk-averse,
politically minded.

He does not respond
to pressure.

- I know who he is.
It's been a month.

- Oh, look, it finds its voice.
- Yes, it does.

And it's going to be fine,

so you got to stop checking
on it, bringing it coffee.

- I don't come here,
I don't see you.

The team is scattered.

I know Chapman isn't speaking
to you, so somebody has to.

- Trudy, I'm good.

Look, today's the day, right?
- Mm-hmm.

- Donor event at the wall?

Come on.
- Here.

[indistinct chatter]

- Hank.
- Sir.

- You missed a lovely event.
- Huh.

It's officially been
four weeks.

- Full breakfast,
nice speeches.

They even mentioned
your father.

You should have attended.

- That's a full month

since the Intelligence Unit
has been disbanded.

My team's all been
on their best behavior.

Every charge of misconduct
has been dismissed.

- I know.

- The only thing left is for
you to sign on the dotted line,

reinstate us.
- I know.

- My officer Kiana Cook--

she just took a permanent spot
in the 17th.

I don't want to lose
any more members.

- I can sympathize.

- I need them
to know we're back.

- Well, they're gonna
have to wait.

- Sir...

I'm sure
I don't need to tell you

there's been
a steady uptick in crime...

9% rise in homicide,
22% in gun violence.

I can relate that directly
to my team being benched.

- You're right.
You don't need to tell me that.

- I was promised
a four-week evaluation.

- No, you were told a four-week
evaluation at minimum.

I need more time.

- How much?

- [scoffs]

I don't relish this, Hank.

And if you want
to talk consequences,

I believe these are yours.

I was given
this responsibility,

and I don't take it lightly.
- It's just a signature.

- No, it's mysignature,
my name on your unit.

Think about that.

You just keep working
Rapid Response.

I need more time.

[dramatic music]

* *

[distant siren wailing]

* *

- [gasps]

[heavy breathing]

* *

[alarm ringing on cell phone]

- Damn it.

[groans]

I got to go.
- Yeah.

- 15's got me working parkers
and movers today.

So, you know,
one simply cannot be late.

- Yeah, well,
at least it's something.

- Sorry, honey.

Voight's meeting
with Commander Devlin today.

You and Dante are going
to get your badges back.

I know it.
- Yeah.

- You'll be back.

- Man, I thought we'd
finally be rid of your ass,

be rid of you bothering
the damn neighborhood.

Day in, day out,
not minding your business.

- Keep digging.
- There ain't nothing in here.

- Keep digging.
- Never was.

- Why don't you dig over there?
Dig.

- I'm telling you,
you're wasting your--

- I knew it.
What did I tell you?

What did I say?
- Dig 'em out. Dig 'em out!

- Watch out for those peppers.

- I ain't touching
your damn plants.

- All of them.
- Oh, you want to swear at me?

- Here's a thought, Ludo.

Don't hide your jab
in your auntie's garden.

I find out you stash here--
[gunshots]

- Oh!
- Hey, stay low.

Stay low.

1140, squad.

[rapid gunfire]
I got shots fired.

4200 Keeler in the alley.

Roll some units.
I'm responding on foot.

[gunfire continues]

- I got shots fired,
4200 Keeler.

Want to stay off the air.

[gunfire continues]

1140, squad, I need an ambo.
I got one down.

- Copy, 1140.
[speaks indistinctly]

- Hey!

Chicago PD!

Drop your weapon!
Drop it!

[tires squealing]

[flat tire thumping]

Offender fleeing eastbound
on Crenshaw.

[sirens wailing]
- Help! Help me!

- He's in a brown Ford,
no plate.

His front passenger tire
is blown out.

- Sarge! Sarge!
Any more offenders on scene?

- No!
Cover that DOA right there!

Don't let anyone near him!
- Copy that.

- It's a male, Black,
5'9", 180 pounds.

He's heavily armed.
- Help! Help me!

Somebody!

* *

- 1140.
I need that ambo now.

- 10-4, 1140.
Ambo's en route.

- Go get some rags.
Go get some rags.

* *

Come on, Aggie.
I need you to fight.

Come on, come on.
Fight, Aggie.

* *

.

- Here, I brought
everything I could find.

- Good. Here, press hard on
those two wounds right there.

Harder than that.
Harder than you want to.

You're not going to hurt her,
you hear me?

[siren wailing]
Press hard. Good. There you go.

- She's bleeding too much,
isn't she?

- Stay with me, Aggie.
I need you to be strong.

Come on.

[car doors open, close]
Come on.

[dramatic music]

- Whoa!
What are you doing?

- It'll stop the bleeding
for now.

Come on, Aggie, stay with me.
- Is she breathing?

It doesn't seem like
she's breathing.

Aggie?
Auntie Aggie, can you hear me?

- Press hard.
- What we got?

- Okay, three shots.

Two through-and-through,
third no exit.

- She's not breathing, is she?
- Pulse is real weak.

- Okay, we got her.
You can release your finger.

- Sergeant Voight,
release your finger.

- You can stay with her, okay?
- Yeah.

- You're doing
real good, Ludo.

Hey, he can ride
with you, right?

- Yeah, he can.
- Keep me updated, Brenda.

- Will do.

- Sir!
Hey, sir, back up!

Don't touch him!

Don't!

Hey, I ordered you
to hold the scene.

What the hell are you doing?

- Sector Sergeant
wanted me on tape.

- Sir, back up, please.
Back up right now.

- I was just trying to help.
- I understand.

I need you to back off
right now, okay?

It's a crime scene.
All the way back.

Thank you.

- You got to stay
behind the tape.

[speaks indistinctly]

[sirens wailing]

[wailing stops, tires screech]

[car doors open, close,
indistinct chatter]

- Hey, we got eyes
on that Ford?

- No, sir. Sector Sergeant
terminated the chase.

- My God.

His tire was blown out.
We could have had him.

- Hank.

- All right, victim's ID'd
as Kenton Williams.

This is likely his Acura
right here.

- You were first on scene?
- Yeah.

Man died with a Glock
and dummy cash in his hand,

so I'm guessing
it's a dope deal gone wrong.

And this alley is known for it.

Lack of cams,
easy access to 290.

- Okay, thanks.

- I doubt this offender
is new to the neighborhood.

I got good eyes on him.
I can ID him.

I mean, we should
knock and talk.

The faster, the better.

- Well, I talked
to Commander Devlin.

Look, I'd love it
if Intelligence

could work on this one.

- Well,
I'm standing right here.

- But you can't, all right?

And I'm not stepping
between you and Devlin.

I-I don't want any of that.

You were only assigned
to work in-progress calls.

- Here you go.

I recovered it
off the dead body.

The other gun was a fully auto,

so we got another
on our streets.

- I'm sorry, Hank.

* *

No, no, no, tape first.

All right, call Forensics.
Hold the scene, all right?

Slow and steady.
[cell phone vibrates]

[indistinct chatter]

* *

- Yo! Jos!

You see that car
just drove past here?

Six minutes ago--
beater brown Ford, flat tire.

Black male driver, 20s, 30s.

You know his name?

[cell phone video game beeping]

- Hey! Yo! Yo!

Hank, stop, yo!

Hey, what's your problem?

- Tell me who the driver is.

- I'm sitting here
minding my business.

- Bro, I know for a fact

you got at least
two jabs of work

and two girls in there
right now.

Now, you want that
to be your day,

or you want to tell me
who the driver is?

- I-I don't know his name.
- That ain't helpful.

- B-b-b-but
I-I seen him and his ride.

- Uh-huh.

- H-he hang at Mondo's.

I-I seen him there.

[distant dog barks]

- Victim has multiple counts
of PCS, delivery, UUW.

It all fits
with a dope deal gone wrong.

Yeah. Victim tried to stiff
our offender, got shot for it.

- Okay, wait.
Did you get word from Devlin?

Are we back?

- Look, it's another DOA
from a fully auto.

I mean, sector has failed
on five bodies this month.

It's enough.

Adam, I got a witness.

He recognized our shooter.
He's seen him at a local bar.

Can you bum off for an hour
and meet me there?

- We're not back, are we?

- No.

- All right, what bar?

- Mondo's.
Its 18th and Hamlin.

[tires squeal]

[bluesy rock music playing]

* *

- Yo, man.
Hey, you work here a lot?

- What's a lot?

- I was in here with my guys
a few nights back.

I had my ride parked out front.

Brown Ford
ripped right into it,

took the bumper clean off.

I got, like,
$500 worth of damages.

- [scoffs]
I don't work the streets.

- I get that. I mean, clearly,
it came from here.

I just need a name.
- Don't got one.

- Come on, man,
a-a brown Ford, beat to hell.

It's real hard to miss.
Black driver.

- Yeah, I don't know.

- [sighs]

- Yeah,
I don't want no trouble.

- I know, but I'm not going to
tell him where I got the name.

I just need a name.
- I--but--no, man.

- What kind of car
are you asking about?

- What's that?

- I said, what kind of car
are you asking about?

- Yo, stop.

- Look,
I don't want no trouble.

- Brown Ford, Black driver--
you know him?

- Why you asking?

- Well, he hit my car,
took off, hit-and-run.

- Hit-and-run, huh?
- Yeah.

- Yo, Dee, stop.

- I ain't never seen you
in here before.

- No. Hey.

- Never seen you before either.

- That ain't the same.

- Dee, stop.
Leave it alone.

- Look, man.
- Come on.

- I don't know you.
- Dee, calm down. Sit--

- I don't know your car
that got clipped out front.

Why you in here asking
about a brown Ford?

- I just told you.

- Now, see,
I don't like that answer.

- Let it go. Dee, hey, stop.
- We're not doing this again.

- I don't like that answer.
- Stop! Stop! No!

- Yo, yo, yo.
I don't want no trouble.

I'm just asking about a car.

- See, you not just asking.
Not when you--

- Come on, come on!
Yo, Dee, hey!

[bottle shatters]
Hey!

Yo, Dee, get--get out of here!
- That's what you want to do?

- Get out.
- Huh?

Come get this. Come on.
- Dee, get. Run.

[suspenseful music]

* *

- Go!
- I remember faces.

- Run!
- I see you. I'ma get you.

[door opens, closes]

- Son of a bitch.

I'm police, all right?

So put the bottle down now.
Put it down.

[bottle clatters on ground]
God damn it.

Hey! Stop!

* *

Stop, stop, stop. Hey.
Stop. Would you stop?

Get--

* *

- Police!
Stop struggling!

- [sighs]

Put down the gun, you idiot.
I'm on duty with the ATF.

* *

.

- ATF down with you shivving
officers with beer bottles?

- Can we make this quicker?
- Who drives that Ford?

- Why you want to know?

- That's not how it works.
You answer first.

- I got no idea who drives it,
all right?

I've never seen it,
but, clearly, my contact has.

Why do you want to know?

- Because the driver
just killed a man

and his 75-year-old grandmother
with a Draco Mini.

- When?
- This morning.

It looked like
a dope deal gone wrong.

Now I'm assuming
it was a gun deal.

Are you working a gunrunner?
- I'm trying to.

- Who?

Look, chances are
we're chasing the same guy.

- I don't got to tell a beat
sergeant what I'm working.

- Excuse me?
- Did I stutter?

I don't need to tell you,
all right?

I got to go right now.

So you got my name.
You have all my info.

You can run it up
to your superiors.

Give me my ID.

- No.

- Look, my boss
will tell your superiors

what I'm working, all right?

They'll give you everything.
Give me my ID.

I got to go.

- She's right.
Let her have it.

- Hey, what are we doing?

All right, so what's happening?

- Well, I'm not gonna wait
to run it through systems.

Just follow her.

- All right, boss,
what's going on?

I thought the plan was
to lay low,

swallow the consequences
until Devlin signs us back.

- He's not signing us back yet.

- Yet or ever?

[engine turning over]

- Come on, we got to go.
- Boss, I just--

I can't be away
from my beat this long.

- Fine.
I got it.

[faucet running]

[soft scraping]

[dish shatters]

[cell phone ringing]

- Sarge?

- What are you doing
right now?

- Um...

uh, nothing.

I'm not doing anything.

We back?
- I need a favor.

It'll be off-book.

Can you meet me ASAP?

Kim?

- Yeah. Yeah.

I'll leave right now.

She's still on Cermak,
changing lanes.

- Copy you. I'm headed
southbound on Holman.

- Copy.
- All right, just stay wide.

I'll call you back in two.
- Got it.

- What happened with Devlin?

- Trudy, you know anything
about a female CPD officer

detailed to ATF
named Eva Imani?

- That's my answer?

- Spelled I-M-A-N-I.

- Yeah, I heard of her.

She was detailed
straight out of the academy.

Never heard so many stories

about someone
making so few friends.

Why?
- I got to go.

Yeah.

- I've got her curbing
the vehicle.

Okay, she's approaching...

- Where the hell you been?
I've been calling you.

- 3545 Christina.

I got a male, Black, late 20s.

He's on the front porch.
- Headed to you.

Sounds like her contact
from the bar.

[indistinct chatter]

- Address is listed
to her fake ID.

It must be a UC apartment.

- They're entering now.

* *

[door closes]

I'm going to do a walk-by.

- Copy. Stay wide.
Stay on the line.

[indistinct arguing]

- Mm-hmm.

* *

[arguing continues]

- Sarge, this woman
have backup inside?

- I don't know.

- Cop shows up asking
about Raptor's car

two weeks
after your ass appears,

wanting to know me,

wanting to know
how I make scratch,

wanting me to scratch you back?

And now this is all
in my head, bitch?

- What the hell
is wrong with you?

- What the hell
is wrong with me?

- I think she's been made.

This girl's in trouble.
I'm going in.

[Eva grunting]

Let her go.

Listen to me.
I said, let her go.

- Shut up!

- Chicago PD!

Get off of her!

Get off!

[tense music]

* *

- Go!
You got to move.

You got to get out.
Go! You got to go!

[gunshots]

* *

.

[door slams]

- Jesus.

- Kim, you got to go.

- He was going to kill her,
so I had to move.

- You're not on the job.

You got to go.
- God damn it.

I know.
[breathing heavily]

I know.

- She was never here.
[door slams]

- What?
- She was never here.

- Who the hell are you?
- Is this his gun?

- What kind
of patrol sergeant--

Did you follow me here?

- Yes.

It would have taken hours
for your boss to give me

the information,
which you knew,

so I followed you instead.

You're welcome!

- [scoffs]
- Now, is this his gun?

Is this his gun?
- Yes.

- Okay, who is he?

- His name is Dee Hart.

He works for a gunrunner
we've been targeting.

- Okay, what's
the gunrunner's name?

- I don't know.
- Oh, please.

- I don't. Dee only
ever called him Raptor.

Guy hits gun shows,
gun shops, trains,

then sells the pieces
for real cheap.

I've linked his guns
to 23 bodies in the Midwest.

Hewas supposed
to get me a meet.

- Okay, you got a description?
- [sighs]

[sirens wailing]
Black male, 5'9".

- Yeah, I bet
he drives a brown Ford.

[tires screeching]

- 23 bodies.

[car doors open, close]

- Hey.

Hey. Hey.

It was just you and me here,
you hear me?

- There's a reason
we have protocol,

because protocol prevents
piss-poor police performance.

- Yeah, I know the speech.
- Do you?

Because you didn't call it in.
You didn't have a ghost.

And now I'm looking at a man
with two holes in his head.

- What the hell happened?
- Sir.

I crossed paths with ATF.

Looks like
we're after the same guy.

Offender from this morning

matches
an ATF gunrunner target.

- Which offender?

- 11th district.

The offender who left
Kenton Williams

riddled with rounds,

left Aggie Montgomery,
75 years old, dead

from stray bullets
fired from a fully auto.

That offender.

- You mean
the sector sergeant's case?

- I caught it in progress.
- How is that possible?

You didn't answer a single
in-progress call all day.

- He was on view.

I was working my contact
at Mondo's.

Dee here was acting real shaky.
I didn't like the feeling.

I clocked
Sergeant Voight outside,

asked him discreet
to follow me, alone.

Good thing he did.
Dee had made me as police.

Attacked me as soon
as he could.

- You know, Dee's death's
still relatively quiet.

You should probably work your
leads before they dry up.

I can help.
- No.

- I can use him.

- At this point,
I don't care who you use,

as long as you salvage it.

We'll take the scene,
clear up our own mess.

Sorry to have dragged you out.

- Hey.
- Is there a problem?

You want to go against ATF,

let more guns flow
onto our streets, more bodies?

You want to sign
your name to that?

[dramatic music]

* *

[distant siren wailing]

- That's Dee's place
right there.

- Yeah.

- Anything in plain view

I've already
found a reason to search.

Dee was real careful
with his crap.

Never left anything with
Raptor's real name sitting out.

- How long
you been working Raptor?

- Uh, a month.

- How many bodies
have his guns dropped

in Chicago in that time?
- Six.

So you going to tell me
who you really are?

Why that IAD commander
hates you so much?

- He likes me about as much
as your boss likes you.

- Yeah, well, at least mine's
got a reason.

I'm a pain in the ass.
How about yours?

- I used to have a unit.
I don't right now.

I'd like him to change that.

- Mm, so same answer.

- All right, so where were you
before ATF?

- [sighs]
Nowhere, everywhere.

Work with PMT,
so I like to keep it moving.

- Bingo.

Raptor1239, 9:43 a.m.--

"Yo, where you at?

Something popped off.
Get in touch."

We weren't able
to trace the IP address

off the game console,

but we reached out to Raptor
pretending to be Dee,

and it worked.

He told Dee to meet him there
at 9:00 p.m.

- We got confirmation
he's our shooter?

- ATF did.

Slugs removed from Kenton
and Aggie's bodies were a match

for a Draco Mini that
was suspected stolen by Raptor

out of an Indiana gun shop
six months ago.

It's him.

- All right,
this place is desolate.

No cams, no easy access.

- So we keep it skeleton,
just us.

We got to be on foot.

- We got an arrest warrant,

so as soon as Raptor shows,
we grab him up.

Anything?

- Nothing yet.

- East side, clear.

- I'll be the bait.
I've got Dee's vehicle.

I'll park it as central
as I can.

- Well, he's expecting
a male, Black, right?

Shouldn't I be the bait?
- Nah.

- Why not?
That's safer.

- Who the hell cares?
It's my case, my target.

* *

- Okay.

* *

- I got something--
coming in from the south end.

Anybody seeing this?

* *

- Yeah, I got him.

He's coming right towards you.

* *

- Is it Raptor?

* *

- Dee?

- Crash.

* *

- Dee, what's going on?

- Chicago PD!
- Get down!

- Hands in the air, now!
- Wait, wait, wait, wait!

- Turn around! Turn around!
Get on the ground right now!

- Okay.
- Get down!

- Hands down! Hands wide.
Keep 'em wide.

* *

Who the hell are you?

- How do you know the name Dee?

[rapid gunfire]
Oh, my God.

.

[rapid gunfire]
- Come on! Let's go! Go!

- Stay down! Down!
- Stay there. Stay low.

- Can we see where
those are coming from?

- No, I can't see!
I don't have eyes!

[gunfire continues]

- All right, I got him.--
one o'clock.

Kev, I'm moving.
- I got you. I'ma cover you.

[tense music]

* *

- You got eyes on the shooter?

- 12 o'clock
in that abandoned structure.

- Hey, who sent you here?

- No one, no one.

- Answer me. Who sent you?
- I don't know.

- Yes, you do.
Who?

- I don't know.
I-i-it was some guy.

He found me in the alleyway.
I was shooting up.

He promised me $400
if I came here.

- Describe him.

- He's moving.
Let's go, let's go.

* *

- He was just shooting at you.

Those bullets were for you,
you hear me?

Now describe him.

- It was--it was a Black guy
in his mid-30s.

- He drive a car?
- Yeah.

Yeah, but--but he--he parked
in the alleyway.

It was--
it was a dark-blue car.

- Which alley?

* *

[tires squeal, engine revving]

- [breathing heavily]
You see those plates?

- No.

* *

- Getting the cams sent over
from OCD Tech.

- You got Downey?
- No, Jones. He's better.

And he owes me more.
- Mm.

- Hey, concentrate
on the back west-side alley.

If he was shooting up
back there...

- All right,
two perps on the east.

- Y'all work
real well together.

- You're not really saying that
like it's a good thing.

- Mm, real, uh,
"Brady Bunch" vibe.

Still no investigative alerts.

The ATF's still
working the scene.

- All right, I got it.

- Hey, that's him.
That's our guy.

- Can you enhance it?
- Go.

- All right,
King Seven Paul 561.

[keys clacking]

- Wait, this car is
registered to a Clark Marten--

no criminal history,
white male, 56 years old,

lives in Park Ridge.

Definitely dummy plates.
- Could be a known associate?

- That's an alias.

This dude has a property
in his name--

a defunct garage
in deep Lawndale.

You think our white
56-year-old, Clark Marten,

actually owns that building?
- Let's hit it.

Imani, call your supervisor.

- Or we get it ourselves.

Look, if I'm Raptor,
I got my bags packed,

pieces stashed,
and I'm heading out of town.

Trust me, we do not have time

for what my bosses will insist
on--we should hit it, now.

- Kev, Adam, you got
to go back to your beats.

- No.
- No.

- No, no way, boss.
- Look, we got this.

Go work 'em.
[car door opens, closes]

* *

[door rattles]

* *

[distant siren wailing]

[grunts]

* *

[camera shutter clicking]

- I got something.

* *

This idiot
registered his laptop.

I got his cell phone number.
We can ping it.

.

- He's headed westbound.

- No, ATF's securing his stash.
We're following Raptor now.

Like I said,
he's a flight risk.

I've been working
this guy a month--I know him.

He's going to get the hell
out of Chicago.

No, I'm watching him right now.
He's headed for 290.

Boss, he's going to get--

What? No.
Why the hell would we do that?

No, I'm telling you,
that's a bad--

Right.

Mm-hmm.
Yep.

Okay.

I'll hold anchor
when we get eyes.

- Am I slowing down?

- No.

He's moving on to Cermak.

[dramatic music]

* *

There, 12 o'clock.
2 cars' length ahead of us.

[engine revving]
- Yeah, I see him.

* *

You got eyes on the driver?

- Yeah, that's him.
That's Raptor.

[tires squealing]

[engine revving]

[horn blaring]

* *

- You good?
- Go.

* *

[tires screeching]

* *

Police!
Hands where I can see them!

- Chicago PD!
Let me see your hands!

- Gun!
- Get out of the vehicle!

* *

- Put your hands on the wheel.

I don't repeat myself.

* *

- 12 long guns, 6 Glocks,
4 with switches.

And that Draco was
a match for the gun

that killed Kenton and Aggie.
- Mm.

- Also had a packed bag,
30 thou in cash.

He was going to skip town.
- Mm-hmm.

- You need to take box one
on the arrest.

If you don't own him,
ATF will cut Raptor a deal.

My supervisor
wants his contacts.

He doesn't care if the man's
guns have killed 23 people.

He wouldn't
know their names and face

if they walked up to him
and spit on him.

- You can't give me box one.

You will get your ass
handed to you.

- I don't care.

23, all right?

That man
does not deserve a deal.

He deserves life inside,

and I don't care
who gives it to him.

[siren approaching]

- Can you help me
with something?

[tires screech]

- I did everything you asked.

- No, no, no, I don't
got time for this tonight.

- I worked Rapid Response.

My team of elite officers,

they worked dead-end patrol
for a month.

- [scoffs]
I don't got any new answers.

- When they could have been
working real cases, like today.

My team has
the highest solve rate

in the city.

Sir.

Please.

Sign my unit back.

- No boss with an ounce
of self-regard

would sign your unit
back together,

not when your unit

destroys everyone it touches.
- [sighs]

- I'm not signing
Intelligence back...

ever.

- [scoffs]

[sighs]

I tried to do this
the right way.

- What's this?
- I really did.

Open it.

* *

ATF is still tracking
every gun from Raptor's stash.

I mean, he had boxes
from gun shows,

manufacturers,
gun stores all across the U.S.

Those are the ones I asked
ATF to prioritize, though.

* *

You recognize 'em.

* *

Serial numbers all trace back
to the CPD.

It was a batch of weapons
that IAD ordered

to replenish their officers--

same batch that
your predecessors and you

signed off on...

and never reported stolen.

* *

I mean, I doubt
you know who stole 'em.

It was just
an embarrassment, right?

* *

It went against your
self-preservation to report it.

* *

I mean, think how pathetic
it'll look now.

* *

My unit is reinstated
tonight...

or this goes public.

* *

- You can't outrun yourself
forever, Hank.

* *

[door opens, closes]

- Wow.

Really beautiful space.

- You talk to your supervisor?

- Why'd you want to meet here?

- Is that a tic of yours?
You don't answer questions?

- Well, you don't either,
right?

You're not exactly
a shining conversationalist.

- What'd he give you?

- Early end to my detail.

- Huh.
- Yeah.

It's fine. I was feeling like
it was time to pack up anyway,

move somewhere else.

I don't really like to stay put
for too long.

- I can tell.

- Plus, that boss
was a damn idiot.

- Hmm.

- Moved like a slug
and couldn't see jack coming.

The world could be ending,
and he'd be like,

what's the weather like,
and what jacket should I pack?

- So you're gonna
outrun the consequences.

- Yeah, I'm gonna try.

- What were their names?

- What?

- The six who were killed
by Raptor's guns in Chicago--

what were their names?

- George Malkin, Javon Dyer,

Anthony Rodriguez,
Cattie Rodriguez,

Kenton Williams,
and Aggie Montgomery.

* *

- Why don't you run with us
for a while?

* *

- You got your unit back?

- Got an open spot.

- Yeah, that's--
that's a terrible idea.

- Hmm.

Why's that?

- You don't want me.

- I'm not gonna convince you.
It's yes or no.

* *

I'll give you a long leash.

* *

Okay.

- Just for a while?

* *

- Let's get back to work.

* *

[wolf howls]