Original subtitles

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.

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!

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. - Yay.

Quickie before the kids wake up?

Oh, um, well...

Mm.

Mom, come here!

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.

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.

Try 02-01-2026.

- Wow. - 20-01-2025.

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

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

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?

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.

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.

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.

Okay.

Thank you.

Thanks for the assist.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

Wait.

Control, in pursuit of suspect,

entering Royal Lake Apartments... send backup.

Come on, come on.

Passing third floor, heading for the roof!

Stop! LAPD!

Come on, Ryder.

There's nowhere to go.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

Giddyup.

Yeah, all right.

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.

Captain, always a pleasure.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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?

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.

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!

- 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.

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.

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

Ryder died yesterday trying to jump between rooftops.

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?

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...

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.

- 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.

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...

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.

Yo.

What's up, K?

They got you working the door already, huh?

Damn, Lil Trey on the come-up.

5-4 for life.

- 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.

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.

We ain't got all day.

SWAT's ten minutes out.

You got eyes on Kingston? - Yeah.

We're looking at a potential murder in progress.

We can't wait.

Now, smoke this fool.

- Police! - It's the cops!

Go, go, go! - Hey!

Police! Drop your weapons!

Show me your hands if you're up there!

Juarez!

Go! Go!

Cover us. Go!

Stay down! Stay down!

Wait!

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.

Trey, please. Please.

Get on your stomach.

Go.

Drop the gun. Hands on your head.

- 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...

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.

- 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.

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.

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.

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?

Damn it.