All language subtitles for The Rookie S08E04 720p x264-FENiX[EZTVx.to].srt - eng(2)

- Hey, you're not nervous
I'm gonna embarrass you

in front of your old captain,
are you?

- Of course not.

I don't know why
I'm so anxious.

Russ has always been one
of my biggest champions.

He's the one that pushed me to
go to officer candidate school

after my first tour.

- Well, I'm sure he's not
coming all the way to LA

so that he can tell you
he's disappointed in you.

- I just wish he would give me

some sort of idea
what this is about,

but that's Russ.

- There she is.
- Hey, Russ!

It's so good to see you!
- Ah!

- Hey.
- John Nolan.

- Colonel Russell Wilkes.
Please, call me Russ.

It's a pleasure to finally meet
the man behind the stories.

- Yeah, likewise. Sit down.
- Thank you.

I really appreciate
you being here, John.

I know I didn't give away
too much over the phone,

but what I'm here to discuss
would affect both your lives.

Seems only fair to include you
in the conversation.

The Sec Def has tasked me
with putting together

a working group
inside the Pentagon.

- Wow.

- A team of my own choosing
that will spearhead

bringing battlefield medicine
into the 22nd century.

It's the most consequential
assignment of my career,

and you are the first person
I'm asking to be a part of it.

- I mean, it's an honor
just to be nominated.

- Totally. Russ is a genius.

He could recruit anyone
for this working group.

And the fact that
he called me first--

I mean, that's--
that's pretty great.

- Yeah, 100%. That's so cool.

But, I mean, our life
is perfect right now.

There's no way
we're messing that up.

- No way. It's perfect.

[gunshots, people screaming]

[suspenseful music]

- Police! Get down!

- This is Bailey Nune, LAFD.

I need an RA
to Central Station Market.

We have a male GSW victim

who's been shot in the head
and the back.

- Two suspects--black hoodies,
masks, and pants.

One headed east
towards Broadway.

In pursuit of second suspect.

Move! Move!

[screaming continues]

♪ ♪

[cell phone buzzing]

- [scoffs]

Why are you texting me
when I'm right here?

- Letting you sleep.
- That's sweet.

Wait, are you looking
at real estate?

- We have to upgrade.

We need more room--

a second tub, a closet
that fits all our clothes.

- I mean, yeah, sure,
that would be nice, but...

we created our family here.

- Which I love, but now
we're bursting at the seams,

and Mama's ready to crack open
that trust fund and get crazy.

- Mm, I'm not sure
I like the sound of that.

- Tough.

We have money.
- Uh, no.

We have some money.

But housing prices in LA
are insane.

I guess it couldn't hurt
to see what's out there.

- I love that you've learned
to roll with me,

rather than resisting.

- Yes, you have successfully
broken my spirit.

- Yay.
- [mockingly] Yay.

- [chuckles]

Quickie
before the kids wake up?

- Oh, um, well...

- [chuckles]
- Mm.

- Mom, come here!

[muffled laughter]

- [sighs]
Too late.

- I like this one.

I bet you could hang
a swing set

from that tree
right there in the back.

- That was my favorite
until I saw this.

It has a pool and a gym
and a screening room.

- Wait, hold up. You got
screening room kind of money?

- Depends on which one
of us you ask.

Wesley is the king
of frugality,

so he would definitely say no,

but I lived on credit cards
until I met him,

so I'm way more comfortable
pushing the envelope.

- Hey, Nolan,
did you tell Officer Hart

that the shooters last night
were furries?

- No, I said they were
wearing hoodies.

Are you taking the case?
- Yeah.

Do you mind just walking us
through it?

- Yeah, uh, Bailey and I were
coming back from dinner

at Central Station Market.

- Date night?
- No.

Her former commanding officer
came to offer her a job--

a Pentagon think tank.

- Wow, you really married
outside of your league.

- I know, right?

- So is she going to take it?
- No.

It would mean relocating
to D.C.,

so it's a nonstarter for us.

- I mean, it might be
a nonstarter for you,

but I guarantee you that
your overachiever of a wife

is seriously thinking about it.
- No, actually.

She was laughing it off
when we talked about--

oh, my God, she's actually
thinking about it seriously.

Okay, well, no, no,
if that's something

she really wants to do,
relocating to D.C.

could be cool.
- It's not.

I spent time there
during my joint-ops days.

It took me about three weeks
to unclench

every time I came home.

- Thank you for that insight.
- Mm.

- So any clarity
on the victim?

- Fred Wilson, 48, CPA,

married, no kids,
no criminal record.

- Making him
an unlikely candidate

for a targeted assassination.

- Is there anything else
about the shooters

that you didn't give Hart?

- Sorry, I did not get
a good look at them.

What about CCTV?
Anything there?

- They were pretty covered up.

But take a look at this.

[suspenseful music]

- Uh, looks like
the letters SF.

That would make him
Southern Front.

No visible tattoos
on the second shooter.

Huh.
- Yeah.

- So why would a member
of a white supremacist gang

partner up with a Black man

to execute a civilian
in broad daylight?

- Told you he'd spot it.
- You trained him well.

- Could be
that our innocent CPA

was helping the Southern Front
to launder money,

or maybe he had a drug problem
and owed them money.

- We're trying to get the ME
to rush the tox screen,

but he's dodging our calls.
- Oh, say no more.

I'll go deliver the ask
in person.

Let me collect my boot.

- Hey.

Do you know what this is?
- An iron?

- You know what it's not?
A machete.

I am due in court
in two hours to testify

about a man attacking people
on a bus with a machete.

- Okay, something must
have got switched around

in the evidence locker--
we'll figure it out.

- No, no, no.
The case is time not waived.

If we don't find it fast, that
psycho is going to be let free.

- Okay, have you told
the prosecutor?

- No. It's Wesley.

And I am just trying to keep
him in blissful ignorance

as long as possible.

Help me.

- That's the case number.

- No, I know, but it's wrong.
- The case number isn't wrong.

The item might be wrong,
but numbers are just numbers.

- Fine.

Um, so the--the point is,
I have to be at court,

uh, and--and I need
that machete, like, ASAP.

- Case number?
- Oh.

- We're not gonna find it
by using the case number.

The numbers got switched.

- Well, if you don't have
the case number,

then I can't help you.
- Oh, Wesley's gonna kill me.

- It's--relax.
Maybe it's just a typo, right?

The first eight numbers
are the date.

The crime was on January 20th?
Try 20-10-2026.

[upbeat playful music]

Try 02-01-2026.

- Wow.
- 20-01-2025.

- [sighs]

- Are you sure you used
the new data-entry procedure?

We changed it a few months ago.
- Of course I did.

[stammers]

But I wasn't the one
who logged the entry

because you wouldn't approve
the overtime.

I had Smitty do it.

- What the hell
is your problem?

- Uh, good morning?

- [scoffs] I have bent over
backwards to treat you well,

and this is how you repay me.
- I don't--

I'm sorry, I don't know
what's happening right now.

- Like hell.

You know,
your little innocent act

would be a lot more believable
if they weren't in your office.

Just know this:
if you go through with it,

I will do everything
in my power

to absolutely destroy you.

- Hi. Who are you?

What are you doing
in my office,

and why has it sent Vivian
into a rage spiral?

- Rita Sanchez.
This is Bradley Worth.

We work
with the Democratic Party,

and we want you
to run for district attorney.

- And now it makes sense.

That's a hard no for me,
by the way,

but thanks for stopping by.
- You obviously know

that Vivian Eckert's
running unopposed

since Del Monte dropped
out of the race.

- Yeah, but that was a month
ago--why come to me now?

- Candidly, we've been having
a hard time finding someone

to take up his mantle.
- [chuckles]

So I'm your last choice.
- Hardly.

Look, Mr. Evers,
I wish there was time

for us to do our usual dance
of seduction and ego stroking.

But as you rightly pointed
out, we're up against it.

The deadline to enter this race
is in three days.

- And Vivian becoming DA
is worst-case scenario

for the people of this city.

I mean, she has
the most regressive record

in your office.
- Oh, I agree.

But there's zero chance
of me beating her.

I was temporarily disbarred.

- Because of your dealings
with Elijah Stone--we know.

- Yeah, and we are prepared
to embrace that.

I mean, you're a hero who put
his life and career on the line

to take down
a very dangerous kingpin.

Voters love a man who's willing
to stand up for what's right.

- Not to mention you're married
to a cop,

which automatically makes you
a more attractive candidate

to anyone worried
that progressive

means soft on crime.

- Look, I don't want Vivian
to win any more than you do,

but I--
- But nothing.

A Vivian victory will hurt
a lot of people.

And right now you're
our last hope at stopping her.

It may be a long shot,
but isn't it worth the risk?

- I thought you didn't have
time to stroke my ego.

- You have to let me see him.
- I-I don't, actually.

- On TV, the family has
to identify the body.

- Yeah, we don't do that
anymore.

- Ugh, please--
- That's right, ma'am.

It's no longer policy.

But trust me,
it's for the best.

Seeing your loved
one like that, it--

it changes how you
remember them forever.

- [crying] I don't understand.
Fred was a saint.

Why would someone
want to kill him?

- Well, that's what
we're trying to figure out.

- He's really dead?

- Yes, ma'am. I'm afraid so.

And we are so sorry
for your loss.

- [crying]
Okay.

Thank you.

- Thanks for the assist.
[sighs]

Grief makes people
a little crazy,

and I don't like dealing
with them when they're normal.

- Why you work with the dead,
I suppose.

- Uh, anything jump out at you
at the preliminary autopsy?

- No, uh, run-of-the-mill
gun homicide.

The bullet to the head
killed him instantly,

but the shot to the body
was fatal as well.

- Any signs of drug use?

- No, but the tox screen
is underway.

I'll let Harper and Lopez know
the second it comes in.

- Perfect. Thank you very much.
- Yep.

- I once had a widower insist

on seeing his wife's body
back when I was in Sugar Land.

Ended up suing the city
for mental anguish.

- Did he win?
- No.

Case got dismissed when he
was convicted of her murder.

- Oh.
[muffled grunting]

Hey! Police! Let her go!
- Whoa! Hey!

Hi, hi.
It's all--it's all good.

She's--she's fine.
- I'm fine.

- Yeah, I can see that.

But two minutes ago,
you were grieving.

- I'm still grieving.

It manifests itself
in unknowable ways.

- Right, but you brought
your boyfriend

to help you identify
your husband's body?

- Well, I needed
emotional support?

- She's very sensitive.
- Yeah.

Well, you can emotionally
support each other

on the way
to the station--let's go.

- Oh.
- This way.

- This way?
- Yes.

- Oh, no.
- Put your hands down.

- Yes, sir.
- Wow.

- I know this looks bad.
- Understatement.

Your husband was murdered,
and in less than 24 hours,

you were getting busy
with your side piece

down the hall from his body.

- I didn't even want
to be there.

Uh, I told Faith
it would look weird,

but she insisted.

- So you were just trying to be
a good boyfriend.

- Todd is a terrible boyfriend.

He's a lot of fun, but anything
that requires emotional depth--

- Okay, what about Fred?
What was he like?

- He was always super cool
anytime that I came by.

- You're saying Fred knew
about the affair?

- It wasn't an affair.
It was an open marriage.

The whole thing
was Fred's idea.

- The guy wanted
a little bit of peace.

- Is it possible that Todd
wanted you all to himself?

- Listen, I am twice divorced.

I am still paying alimony
to the first.

I am not trying to put
a ring on it.

- There's a reason
why Todd is divorced.

Todd is a good time,
like Coney Island.

Fred, on the other hand,

was deep and soulful

and romantic...

like Paris.

Coney Island is fun to visit...

[crying] But you don't
move there over Paris.

- What do you think?

- I think people are crazy,
but neither of them

is a physical match
for the shooters, so...

- Still doesn't rule out
murder-for-hire.

- Well, yeah.

- Did you put Wesley
up to this?

- No idea
what you're talking about,

but if it's pissing you off,
I'm happy to take credit.

- If he insists
on moving forward,

I can't guarantee
that I'll be able to keep you

out of the crossfire.

- Did she just threaten me?
- Sure seems like it.

But why?
- No idea.

But I'm gonna find out.

Oh, husband!

- You only call me "husband"
when you're mad.

What did I do?
- You tell me.

Vivian just stopped by.

- She told you
I was running for DA.

- Wait, you're running for DA?
Since when?

- No, no, no, wait, it got
sprung on me this morning.

- What does that mean?

- Some people came
to talk to me

about taking over
Sean's campaign.

- And you told them no.
- I did...initially, but...

- But now you're thinking
about it?

- I mean, I'd at least like
to discuss it.

But I am supposed to be
on my way to court right now,

only Lucy texted to tell me

that our key piece
of evidence is missing.

So is there any chance

that we can just table this
until tonight?

- Fine, but only because
yelling at you in the bullpen

might come across
as unprofessional.

- Thank you. I love you.

- [sighs]
- Everything okay?

- Are you free
for dinner tonight?

- Depends. Can I bring James?

- As long as you tell him
he has to be Team Lopez,

on the penalty of death.

- I will be sure to prep him.

- I remember Lucy
gave me the machete,

and I logged it
like I always do.

- Okay, so that right there
is the problem, Smitty.

The system changed.

Most of the world
uses day, month, year.

Month, day, year was causing
all of these issues for us

with our international cases,

which is why we switched,
you know?

Didn't you read the memo?

Sorry, wait.
[chuckles]

I just heard that out loud.
Of course you didn't.

- Important memos are always
covered in the roll call.

- Why do I have a panicked ADA
knocking on my door

to ask for my help
to find a missing machete?

- Because Smitty
wasn't listening

when you went over the change
in how we file case numbers.

- What,
the "day, month, year" thing?

both: Yeah.
- I didn't go over it.

My last day as watch commander
was crazy.

I left it for you to do.
- I thought you handled it.

- Oh, it's not my fault.
It's yours.

- Everyone got the memo.
It's still your fault, Smitty.

- Well, it's still on him
for trusting me.

- I didn't trust you.

I thought he covered it,
and I just didn't follow up.

I can't believe I dropped
the ball like that.

- I don't care
whose fault it is.

I need the machete.

Smitty used
the old system, right?

Try 01-20-2026.

- I-I can't.
It's a dropdown menu.

There's no 20th month.

- What, so you can enter
the 20th month,

but you can't retrieve
the 20th month?

- Correct.
- No. That's wrong.

It shouldn't work that way.
- But that is how it works.

- Wesley says the judge
is losing his patience.

If you can't produce
the evidence,

he's prepared to
dismiss the case.

- Oh.

- Guys, this is
bigger than one case.

Everything Smitty logged
has been misfiled,

going back two months.

- Did the widow shed
some light?

- Uh, not exactly,
but her doorbell cam did.

This is from two days ago.

The car is registered
to a Ryder Frost,

known member
of the Southern Front.

- Well, that tattoo is a match.

Definitely could be
our shooter.

Any idea who
the other fellow is?

- Not yet, but his tats
are 54th Street Gang.

- Besides the racial element,
don't SF and the 5-4

compete for the same
meth business?

- They did
up until a few months ago,

when the Armenians
pushed Southern Front

further into the Valley.

But they are
certainly not allies.

- They cased the garage
but not the house.

Any idea what
they were looking for?

- We've got a last-known
for Ryder.

We were hoping
you'd go ask him.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

[Play Dead's "Offy"]

- Wait.

♪ ♪

Control, in pursuit of suspect,

entering Royal Lake
Apartments--send backup.

♪ ♪

- ♪ Rolling around,
face on the floor ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Wine-covered hands
staining your door ♪

♪ ♪

♪ Kicked out the pub
for my fake ID ♪

- Come on, come on.

- ♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

- Passing third floor,
heading for the roof!

♪ ♪

- ♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah! ♪

- Stop! LAPD!

Come on, Ryder.

There's nowhere to go.

- Put your hands on your head.
Down on your knees.

[sirens wailing]

- Wait, wait, wait! Stop!
- Stop!

[dramatic music]

- [screams]
[body thuds]

[sirens wailing]

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter,
telephones ringing]

- I'm sorry, are these
cases from the future?

- Apparently, the system didn't
know what to do with month 20,

and so it just made
the math work.

And 12 months plus 8
is August 2027.

- Cases from the 21st became
September of next year,

and so on.
- This is unbelievable.

The judge granted
a continuance,

but we need the machete
by noon tomorrow.

- Yep. Don't worry.
We will have it.

- I'll stick around.
I feel responsible.

- No, it's completely on me.
- I should have clarified.

- You were on your way out.

- Okay, you guys are
both Spartacus, okay?

Let's please start
opening the boxes.

- Are you coming?
- No.

[doorbell rings]

- Russ, I thought you had
a flight to catch.

- I do,
but I couldn't leave LA

without making one last appeal.

- Well, I guess
you better come in, then.

- Thank you.

Oh.
[chuckles]

You've really made a nice life
for yourself here, Nune.

I can, uh--I can see why you'd
hesitate before giving it up.

But...

anything I can say
to convince you?

- Can I ask why?

I'm not a doctor
or a scientist.

I don't have a PhD.
Why are you asking me?

- Well, maybe I've been
around long enough

to know that having a few extra
letters after your name

doesn't make you a genius.

I also know that
if I bring you a problem,

you won't rest
until you've looked at it

from every
conceivable angle twice

before bringing me a solution.

- What if I can't find
a solution?

- Hell, girl, that's why
they call it a think tank.

Does me no good to have
a bunch of identical people

with identical viewpoints

looking
in identical directions.

Baseball team can't be
all pitchers.

We need somebody
to play shortstop.

All right, gonna miss my flight
if I don't get going.

So, you know, take a few days
to think about it.

Talk it over with your man
and call me.

- I will.

- You know, Nune,
if you don't want the job

because it's not the right fit
or the right time,

that's fine--I get it.

But deciding that
you're not good enough

before somebody else can...

that's the coward's way.

And I know you're not a coward.

- No, sir, I'm not.

[apprehensive music]

- Giddyup.

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

- Yeah, all right.

[door closes]
Okay, thanks for the update.

Suspect in the
Central Station Market shooting

fell to his death.
- That's awful.

- Yeah, guy thought
he was an action hero,

tried to leap
between two buildings.

- Any leads
on the second shooter?

- No, but the brass
has been blowing up my phone.

You know, a guy falls to his
death during a police pursuit,

everyone's got questions.
[phone rings]

Captain, always a pleasure.

[door opens]
- I do not miss that.

- I don't think
I've seen him sleep

more than four consecutive
hours since he took this job.

- I know being sidelined
for the president's visit

shook Tim up.

And even though it was more
of a CYA decision by the brass

than an indictment
on his performance,

the optics weren't great
for him.

- Do you think
he should be worried?

- I think that watch commander
is a thankless job.

You're not in the field,

but you're responsible
for every knucklehead that is.

Patrol officers want resources
you can't give them.

The brass expects results

that you realistically
can't produce.

And when there's bad press

and they're looking
for a head to roll...

- Right.
I didn't think of it that way.

- 'Cause I made it look easy.

He'll get the hang of it.

- The machete! Yes!

I got--I got to call Wesley.
- I'd wait a beat on that.

- ♪ I got a crack in my tooth,
and it's wiggling ♪

- Yeah, that sounds horrible.

- It wasn't pretty,
that's for sure.

Nolan and I barely had time to
twitch before it was all over.

- So where does
that leave the case?

- Still trying to ID
the second shooter.

- [sighs]

- Hey, did you know
the Armenians

pushed the Southern Front's
meth trade deeper into the--

- Deeper into the Valley?
Yep, happened a few months ago.

- I swear, I read every gang
report the department puts out,

and I haven't seen
anything about that.

- Yeah, see, those reports
only get you so far.

I mean, the best information
is usually

through word of mouth,
which is great for me,

'cause I know people
from all over the city.

- Well, how can I compete
with that when I just got here?

It takes time to cultivate
that kind of trust.

- True, but, I mean,
you'd be shocked

by what some of these
low-level gangbangers

put on social media.
- [chuckles]

- The LA gang subreddit
is a great resource.

Look, I got to stay up anyway.

I've got a 2:00 a.m. Zoom date
with Rodge.

Why don't I show you some of
my favorite accounts to follow?

Who knows? You might see
something on Ryder.

- Well, all right,
let's go, Coach.

I'm ready.

[doorbell rings]
- Hey. Good to see you.

- You too.
- How you doing?

- Thought we might need this.
- Ooh, very thoughtful.

What do you guys think--

should we crack it now
or save it for dinner?

- My vote is now.
- Okay.

- And don't be stingy
with the pours.

Everyone clear on the plan?
- Oh, yes, yes.

James knows--
agree with everything you say

and keep the
starry-eyed-reformer talk

at a minimum.
- Perfect.

Operation: Kill A Dream
is a go.

- Mm-hmm.

He has a point.

We complain all the time
about undocumented witnesses

being too scared to testify.

Instituting a policy that would
protect them from deportation--

that would be a game changer.
- [clears throat]

I thought we were supposed
to be Team Lopez.

- I know, but it's a good idea.

- I'm not saying
it's not a good idea,

but I think we're getting away
from the larger point,

which is, we'd be opening our
lives up to public scrutiny,

which would be hard enough
for you and me, and...

I worry what it'll do
to the kids.

- So do I.

But I also want them to grow up
knowing that their father

is willing to fight
for the rights of everybody,

even when it's difficult.
- Amen.

- [sighs]

- What? You started it.

- Think of what I'd be
in the position to influence

as the DA.

I could end cash bail...

expand victim services,
emphasize counseling.

- Institutional change
is always hard.

- Right, but does that mean
that I shouldn't try?

- What about the house?

- Yeah, well, we would probably
have to wait on that.

I mean, optics would--

- And you'd be fine
letting public perception

dictate how we live our lives?

- In service of real reform...

maybe.

Real change requires sacrifice.
- [sighs]

- But I would not do it
at the expense of our family.

I would need to know
that you were on board 100%.

[soft tense music]

- Hello.

Whoa. Something smells good.

- Because I cooked.

- More than cooked.

Candles? Should I be worried?
- No, not at all.

I just know you had
a really hard day,

and I wanted to do
something nice for you.

- Oh. Uh-huh.

And, uh...

what do you really want
in exchange

for this totally
no-strings-attached feast?

- A conversation...

about D.C.

- I didn't know we
needed to have one.

- I know, and that is my fault.

But all day,

I have not been able to get
this idea out of my head.

And Russ stopped by
on the way to the airport

and gave me his final appeal,

and it made me question

why I was so quick
to shut it down.

- Well--

- And before you tell me no
or give me 100 reasons

why it won't work, all I ask
is that you spend some time

to explore the idea.
- And by that, you mean?

- See what transferring
to D.C. Police would look like.

Make some calls,

ask some questions,
kick the tires.

- And...

what if we come
to different conclusions?

- We abort the mission.

Either we're both in
or both out.

- We need both keys
to launch the torpedoes.

- Yes.

What do you think?

[soft music]

- I think I want you
to be happy.

And if this is
something you want,

then I will do everything
I can from my end

to see if it's feasible.

We're in this together.

- Is it just me,

or are these numbers
starting to blend together?

- It is not just you.

- Hey, everything okay
with the brass?

- Ryder's death was ruled
an accident,

but there's always a chance
they could reopen the case

or blame me for this whole
evidence-logging mess.

- Hey, just take the win.

- You're right.

Look, I swear,
if I lose watch commander

because of Smitty--
- That's not gonna happen.

I have been manifesting

that we will find
this machete all day.

- "Manifesting"?
- Mm-hmm.

- God, I got you away
from Juarez just in time.

- [laughing]
Shut up.

- You got to be kidding me.
- Hmm?

Oh, my God.

This is it! This is it!
- Thank God.

All right, let's go home.
- Okay.

Whoo!
[giggles]

- Hey, where are you?
- A yurt in Finland.

The Northern Lights have been
amazing the last few nights.

- Jealous.

- I know. I wish you were
here to see them with me.

- Me too. I miss you.

- Hey, Celina.
I might have found something.

So Ryder--

- Is that Miles? Hey, Miles.
- Hey, man.

How's the Great White North?
- He saw the aurora.

- Oh, cool.
- Who's Ryder?

- A suspect in a murder.
- Well, that sounds important.

Do you need to go?
- No. Just give me one second.

What's up?

- Okay, so I was looking
through Ryder's juvie file.

Between the ages of 9 to 14,

he lived
in four different foster homes.

One was located
in the 54th Street territory.

Foster parents were
Mabel and Rafael Sinclair.

And Rafael died
a few years ago--heart attack.

But look at what
I found on Mabel.

[suspenseful music]

- Uh, babe, I'm sorry.
I got to go.

- No worries. Uh, have fun
solving your murder.

- We will.

Let me see.

This is Mabel Sinclair.

- Most of the kids in the
neighborhood just call her Ma,

since they know
whatever they need--

food, a place to stay,
clean clothes--

Mabel will hook them up.

- Well, last week Mabel was
the victim of a hit-and-run

while crossing her street.

Witnesses saw a red sedan
speeding away from the scene,

but no arrests have been made.

Anyone care to guess what
kind of car Fred Wilson drove?

both:
A red Camry.

- So you think Fred hit Mabel?
- Oh, more than that.

Celina ran his VIN

and found the body shop
doing the repairs on his car.

The bumper tested positive
for blood.

- Forensics are
running the sample.

- What's Ryder's connection
to this woman?

- Oh, Mabel was
his foster mother.

- That's the second shooter.

- That is Kingston Holmes--

22, proud member of the 5-4

and former foster brother
to Ryder Frost.

- So they murdered Fred Wilson
as revenge for killing Mabel.

- Well...

Mabel isn't dead.

- All I remember is going out

to bring my trash cans in
and then waking up here,

and they told me
it was a-a hit-and-run.

- Unfortunately,
the man suspected

of hitting you with his car
was murdered.

We have reason to believe
your former foster sons,

Ryder Frost
and Kingston Holmes,

wanted revenge
for what happened to you.

- It was painful enough

losing Ryder and Kingston
to the streets.

I don't think I can take

knowing that they killed
a man because of me.

[sighs]

- We're very sorry,
but I'm afraid that's not all.

Ryder died yesterday trying
to jump between rooftops.

- [sighs]
They were just hurt little boys

underneath it all, you know?

When Ryder first came to us,

he was...

so shut down,

he barely said two words to me
that first month.

But Kingston--he always had
this way about him,

this lightness...

even after all
he'd been through.

But then...

they started to
do everything together,

and bit by bit...

I got to see Ryder

for the sweet,
sensitive boy he was.

- What happened?

- Ryder's mom
came back into the picture

with her skinhead boyfriend.

And once he was gone,

all of Kingston's light
went with him.

He started to...

act out, getting in trouble.

And he was finally put away

on some trumped-up
vandalism charge.

And then he joined the gang

in prison.

And suddenly...

the two boys
I saw become brothers

were turned into mortal enemies
by the streets.

- I'm sorry for how much pain
this has caused you,

but we'd like to bring
Kingston in

without any more bloodshed.

Do you have any way
of contacting him?

- [sighs]

What do you want me to say?

- Hey, the judge signed off
on the wiretap.

We should be good
to go in a few.

- Great. Uh, what you were
saying yesterday about D.C.

and needing to unclench...
[door closes]

It can't be that bad, right?

- All right, maybe I'm just--
I've been spoiled by LA.

I'm sure the city has a lot
of great things about it,

but from what I saw,

being a cop there just means
a lot of crowd control

around government offices,
usually in crappy weather--

snowstorms in the winter,

swamp-like humidity
in the summer.

You get two weeks
of cherry blossoms a year,

and that's about it.

- Oh.

- Also, speaking as someone
who thought transferring

to another department
would be easy,

be prepared to relearn

everything
you thought you knew.

- Yeah.
All right, we got to go.

[line trilling]

[phone buzzing]

[tense music]

- Mama?
- It's me, baby.

- Oh, thank God.

I tried to visit you
in the ICU,

but they said
blood family only.

They made it sound
like you were dying.

- Well, I am a little banged
up, but I'll be all right.

- I wish I could come see you.
- Well, me too.

You heard about Ryder?

- Uh, you know, me and Ryder
don't really

mess with each other anymore.

- He's dead, baby, killed,

running away
from what you boys did.

- I don't know
what you're talking about.

- Kingston, please.
You never were a good liar.

[sighs]

You need to turn yourself in.

- I can't.

You know what happened
the last time I went inside.

I had to join the 5-4
just to make it out alive.

- Well, what other
choice do you have?

- Just don't worry
about me, Mama, okay?

Just don't worry.

I got a way out into Mexico,
where I can disappear.

- "Mexico"? What the heck
do you know about Mexico?

- You know what?

Kingston, this is
Detective Nyla Harper

of the LAPD.

- You're working with the cops?

- She is trying
to save your life.

Listen to me--if you run,
things will end badly for you.

But if you turn yourself in,
we can try and help you--

[line beeping]

- Please!

He's scared.

Don't hurt him.

- He's not a kid anymore,
Ms. Sinclair.

He killed a man in cold blood.
- So now we have to go get him.

[somber music]

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

- [breathing heavily]

[muffled hip-hop music
playing]

♪ ♪

- Yo.

What's up, K?

- They got you working
the door already, huh?

Damn, Lil Trey on the come-up.

- 5-4 for life.
[both laugh]

[indistinct chatter]

- [chuckling]

- Oh!
- Yo. P-Mac.

Uh, can we talk?
- Sure.

Come here.

You good?
- Uh...

- Talk to me.

- Uh, I-I got to--

I got to get out of town.

You--you got that hookup with
the cartel tunnels into Mexico?

- For sure.

But why? What happened?

- The less you know,
the better.

Just trust me on that.

- You say "trust me,"
I trust you, okay?

I'll make a few phone calls.

Look, relax, all right?
Have a drink.

You know we got you.

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

- Yo.

What--

- I truly didn't believe
you'd be stupid enough

to bring your dumb ass
back around here

after all the disrespect
shown us.

Yeah, you hitting civilians.

You working with Nazis.

- Trace on Kingston's phone
landed at 4700 Hilldale.

- Copy that.

- Pull over up here.

- But the address is
on the next block.

- Yeah, you recognize that tag?

- 54th Street.

We roll up hot, they could
have spotters anywhere.

- Exactly. Let's go.

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Yo, young'un,
it's your big moment, man.

This is the moment you prove
how much you love the streets

by taking care
of a traitor-ass bitch

that's disrespecting them.

This is the moment you prove
to me you a good soldier

and you follow orders,
all right?

And in return, the streets
gonna love you back.

And wherever you go,
the 5-4 will follow...

for life.

Now, you take care
of this bitch.

♪ ♪

[distant dog barking]

We ain't got all day.

- [groaning]

- SWAT's ten minutes out.

You got eyes on Kingston?
- Yeah.

We're looking at a potential
murder in progress.

We can't wait.

- [breathing heavily]
- Now, smoke this fool.

- Police!
- It's the cops!

Go, go, go!
- Hey!

- Police! Drop your weapons!
[gunshots]

- Show me your hands
if you're up there!

- Juarez!

- Go! Go!

Cover us. Go!

- Stay down! Stay down!

- [breathing heavily]
[gunshots continue]

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- Wait!

- [panting]

- Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Please, please, please.

Please, please.

Please, you can--you can just
say that you didn't see me.

You can say
that you didn't see me.

You can say
that you didn't see me.

Trey, please. Please.

- Get on your stomach.
[gunshot]

- Go.

[sirens approaching]

- Drop the gun.
Hands on your head.

[solemn music]

♪ ♪

[handcuffs clicking]

[door buzzes]

- The kid is processed.
- Ah, thank you for that.

Um, look, I realize
this was a bit of a tough one.

You all right?
- I'll be all right.

I know I shouldn't feel
sympathy, but...

he's just a boy.

- Look, no one is saying
you can't feel sympathy.

But at the end of the day,

he did make the choice
to pull that trigger.

Look, why don't you go home?

I'll take care
of the paperwork.

- Yes, sir. Thank you.

- You bet.

- Um...
[sighs]

- It amazes me how one man
can wreak such havoc

on the entire LAPD.

- Smitty is a force of nature.

- Uh, got a minute?
- Yeah, sure. What's up?

- Well, Bailey has been offered
a pretty impressive job

in D.C.--
a Pentagon think tank.

And I was just wondering
what a transfer to the D.C. PD

would be like.

- Yeah, I can get you in touch
with a few people.

But you do know
you would have to start

at the very bottom again,
including redoing the academy?

- I've done it before.

- You were also
five years younger.

- Yes.

- You would get
a pretty hefty signing bonus.

- Well, that's a perk.

- But your annual salary

would be much less
than you make in LA.

Plus, the cost of living
in D.C. is just as expensive.

So, in the long run,

your bonus really won't make
a difference,

especially if Bailey's only
making a government salary.

- Right.

- I'm sorry if this is not the
answer you were looking for.

- No, no, that's, um...

I was just looking
for the truth.

- Yeah, well, good luck.

- Thank you.

- Hey.

The LAPD would be sad
to see you go.

- Thank you, sir.

- ♪ Stoned in Salem ♪

♪ Saw your halo ♪

- Guess what.
- What?

- We won.
- That's great.

Judge give you any grief
about the evidence?

- I think he was too confused
by the explanation

to challenge it.

- Take the win.
- Mm-hmm.

- I prepared
a ten-minute lecture

for tomorrow's roll call

to make sure no one can ever
again use ignorance

as an excuse
when mislabeling case numbers.

- You know, you're a really
good watch commander.

- I'm figuring it out.

- No, listen, no matter
what kind of craziness

is going on at the station,

you're always
the center of calm.

And the rest of us need that.
I need that.

- Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

- I'll tell you what--

list of things we can't trust
Smitty with is getting longer.

- Do you think he's doing it
on purpose?

- Weaponized incompetence?
- Yeah.

- I don't think
he's that strategic.

- [chuckles]

- ♪ Running out of time ♪

♪ To make you mine ♪

- Hey.
Sorry I missed dinner...

And bedtime.

- You should run for DA.

- Are you sure?
Because if you're not in 100%--

- I'm in.

The more I thought about it,
the more I realized

this was exactly
why you joined the DA's office

in the first place.
- Hmm.

- And I'm proud you want to set
that example for our children,

especially because every day
I see firsthand

the people
our system has failed.

And, inevitably,
the ones who suffer the most

are other kids.

- Are you sure you're okay
waiting on a new house?

- No.
- [laughs]

- But like you said,

real change requires sacrifice.

And I love this house.

We brought home
two babies here.

- Mm.

We also made two babies here.

- So we did.
- [chuckles]

- No food
to entice me with, I see.

- No, but I have wine.

- Listen, I don't want to beat
around the bush.

I did my due diligence,
and I am sorry, honey.

I don't think I can do D.C.

It would mean starting

all over again as a rookie.

Only this time,
instead of being 45, I'd be 50.

- Oh.

What if...

I'm not ready to say no?

- Well, you did say
we both had to be in,

or you would walk away.

- I know, and I meant it
when I said it.

But now...

- You still want it?

- So where does that leave us?

- [vocalizing]

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- Damn it.