All language subtitles for Person.Of.Interest.S02E18.BluRay.1080p.8bit.5.1.x265.HEVC-Qman[UTR]

You are being watched.

The government
has a secret system,

a machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

I designed the machine to
detect acts of terror,

but it sees everything,

violent crimes
involving ordinary people.

The government considers
these people irrelevant.

We don't.

Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator,

if your number's up,
we'll find you.

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com

This is the best day
of my life.

Listen, Candi,
I just want to say...

I think you're really special.

Hey! What--

Don't you knock?

You stole our money.
We want it back.

Are you the Nigerian scammers?

I can't believe
you're actually Nigerian.

500 bucks. Now.

Candi...

you set me up?
I thought we had something.

Hey, come on, g-guys.

It's not technically a crime
to scam a scammer!

But it is a crime to cut out
a man's intestines.

And make him
wear them as a hat.

Wait, you plan to kill me?

Probably.

Okay, that's a big mistake.

Yeah, you better
get out of here.

Right now, while you still can.

Aah!

Oh!

Oh, okay.
Okay.

We have to stop
meeting like this.

I'm always so happy to see you.

Next time this happens,
Leon, I'm gonna be on vacation.

I gather
that Mr. Tao is intact.

- He is.
- Finchy!

And seemingly unfazed
by his most recent

brush with death.

Are you kidding?
I'm distraught.

That woman ripped out
my beating heart.

Let's go get me a drink.

I need to work through this.

Mr. Reese,
please part ways

with Leon
as quickly as possible.

We've received another number.

That's the best news
I've heard all day.

You'll have
to leave immediately.

There's some travel required.

You're going to Atlantic City.

All right, Finch, I'm here.

So tell me
about our new number.

His name is Lou Mitchell,
a retired watch repairman.

He's a widower
with no children.

His wife Marilyn died
of cancer six months ago.

I'm sending you everything
I was able to find.

Not much to go on, Finch.

Like many people his age,
Lou has no cell phone,

no email,
almost no digital footprint.

We'll have to use
a more hands-on approach.

Got him in my sights now.

Hey. Hey!
Hey, you!

What's a guy have to do to get
a little popcorn around here?

Luck isn't on Lou's side,
Finch.

Looks like he's burned
through some cash tonight.

Just point me in the direction
of the pop secret.

I'll make it myself, huh?

Seems his game of choice
is baccarat.

Ah, he enjoys the classics.

It's designed to be simple.
Two hands.

Player, banker.

You guess which hand
adds up closest to nine.

I was an international spy,
Finch.

I know how to play baccarat.

A natural nine.
Banker bet wins.

You make my arthritis flare up.

Sorry, Lou.
Better luck tomorrow.

Sounds like
he's a regular, Finch.

Maybe Lou has lost too much
money at the Venus Casino.

We should look
into his finances.

All right, let's go.
Come on, dealer.

Come on, dealer.

Day two.
No sign of a threat.

Who would want to hurt
an old man anyway?

Whoever Lou used to be,
he's all bark now.

Come on, come on.
I'm growing roots here.

Any luck hacking
Lou's bank account?

He has no online access.

I'm having to hack
his entire bank.

I'm in.

And it looks like
Lou's coffers are nearly empty.

He withdrew almost everything
at the time of his wife's death.

He's been living
on social security ever since.

If he's gambling money
he doesn't have,

he could be in trouble
with loan sharks.

A watch repairman
without a watch

and no wedding ring.

Maybe he had to pawn off
all their valuables.

Seems likely
that a gambling addiction

is the root of the danger.

Finch, I've seen hands
like Lou's before.

All of his fingers were broken.

My guess, a long time ago
in Atlantic City,

he could have rubbed
the mob the wrong way.

- Hey, Lou.
- Aw, Kelly.

It's like you're pouring me
into my grave.

This new stuff,
it tastes like mud.

One day, Lou,
I am gonna throw you

right out the front door.

Face it, Kelly,
you're stuck with me.

My ghost is gonna haunt
this booth until the diner

crumbles to the ground.

What? What?
What's the matter?

The owner got
an offer on the place.

That flashy casino guy, Makris,

wants overflow parking
or something.

Oh, God.

Well, you tell him--

you tell him
he's got to go through me.

I'll show him
where to park his damn cars.

I may have found something,
Mr. Reese.

Lou's wedding announcement
in an archival copy

of the New York Journal.

1972.

Anything useful?

Seems that a friend
of Marilyn's gave her away

at the wedding.

If Lou was involved
with the mob,

her parents might
not have approved.

I'll ask Carter
to look into it.

I'll try to determine
the extent of Lou's debts.

It may be that his gambling past
is coming back to haunt him.

Lou Mitchell pops up in Jersey
organized crime records

in the 1970s,
got his ass handed to him.

Gambling debts and arrests
got him in trouble

with some wise guys.

You know if those wise guys
still run that part of town?

Nah, they're ancient history.

But it's even worse these days.

A lot of drug problems
around the Venus Casino.

Narcotics tells me
they're looking into the guy

who runs the place.

- Thanks, Szymanski.
- You got it.

Carter, I got that
disciplinary report you wanted

on Detective Stills.

It's just your garden variety
abuse of power.

Oh.
Thanks, Terney.

You got it.

Joss.

- Detective Beecher.
- Hey.

So I was thinking,
since you didn't shoot me

on the way out
to Owen Island--

Yeah, you know what?
Uh, come on.

Then maybe
that's your way of saying

I should take you to Il Cuore.

Table on the terrace?

- Can I think about it?
- Mm-hmm. But think quick.

I made us a reservation
Friday night.

In the meantime,

maybe you can help me
look into this casino.

Mr. Reese, I see
you've returned to the casino.

- Is Lou at the tables?
- He will be soon.

To do what?
He has no money.

$1,500.

Tell that to the wad
of bills he just forked over

to the cashier.

Looks like Lou's going
further into debt.

The casino attracts
regular gamblers

through a loyalty card system.

If we could access Lou's,

it would have information
on his entire gambling history.

Any way you can hack
into the system?

I've been trying
since yesterday.

Casinos invest heavily
in their security,

and their firewalls
are of the tricky sort.

But every Achilles has a heel,
and theirs is greed.

Their video blackjack game
is connected to the internet

so that online users
can lose money too.

I'm playing against you
right now.

You're not doing very well.

Winning is not the goal.

The game is so eager
to let me play

that it's allowed my malware
to slip through.

Remind me
never to cross you, Finch.

Oh, don't bet against me.
Bad luck.

I think
you could hold your own.

I'm sending you
someone to ID, Finch.

Guy acts like
he owns the place.

Indeed he does.
Darien Makris.

Bit of a local celebrity.
He owns the casino.

Detective Carter put him
on my radar.

The police have been looking
into him

for cocaine distribution,
but he's never been charged.

Oh, jeez, I'm sorry.

Looks like
I did ruin your luck.

Listen, have you
tried our slots?

Come on, I'll give you
a free spin.

Eric here will point you
in the right direction.

Okay, I've given myself
security access,

so as soon as Lou
swipes his card,

I should be able to view
his history remotely.

Mr. Reese, Lou's lost
nearly $2,000 a day

for the last six months.

Over $320,000 and counting.

How does someone
on a fixed income

accrue that kind of debt?

The real question is,
how the hell did Lou

get all that money
in the first place?

Lou must be borrowing money
to gamble himself out of debt.

And since he has the worst luck
I've ever seen,

he's only going to make
his situation worse.

But where is the money
coming from?

You should check
into his old gambling pals,

see if anyone is staking him.

Has it occurred to you,

what if Lou was
a mobster himself?

What, an old mafioso in hiding?

I certainly hope
that's not the case.

I'll keep an eye on him.

Finch...

If he's dangerous--

- I refuse to believe
that that old man

is capable of hurting anybody.

He's cantankerous,
but he's not a killer.

Open up Interrogation Two
for Szymanski.

Let's go.

- Szymanski--
- Carter...

Somebody's trying to set me up.
They planted evidence.

What?

Offshore accounts.
A condo in Miami.

Then IAB finds this stuffed
in a pillow in my apartment.

This is
an Internal Affairs matter.

And this is a good cop.
What is going on here?

We received a reliable tip
that turned out to be right.

A tip?
From who?

Somebody in narcotics
got word from a CI.

Let's go, Szymanski.

I'm supposed to testify today,
Carter.

They're dirtying me up
to keep me off the stand.

Judge, Peter Yogorov
runs the Russian mafia.

He's on trial for murder.

Now obviously he had
that evidence planted.

It's clear-cut
witness tampering.

Now I plead a continuance
until Detective Szymanski

can testify.

Hey.

- I'll have him back in an hour.
- All right.

Mr. Yogorov, I heard
the ADA lost her key witness

in your trial.

Lucky you.

- Who the hell are you?
- Let's take a ride.

Mr. Yogorov...

I believe
we can help each other.

You're HR, yes?

I heard you guys were finished.

Well, you heard wrong.

I also heard
no one's ever seen the boss.

Detective Szymanski
is key to your case.

He did the arrest,
processed the crime scene.

But now his testimony
is under scrutiny,

and everything he's touched
is in question.

Peter, we can make sure
that you and your brother

never see the inside of
a courtroom or jail cell again.

In exchange for what?

Pulling strings costs money.

We need cash, plain and simple.

You get us back home,
we have a deal.

I must say, I'm not finding
Lou difficult to tail at all.

Perhaps I should have
considered a career

in the clandestine arts.

Any luck on your mission?

I just had a little chat
with some

of the more notable lowlifes
here in Jersey,

and they say that all Lou's
old mob buddies are dead.

Murdered?

Natural causes.
Lou's the last man standing.

What about Lou's finances?

Is he in debt to any criminal
outfits or loan sharks?

Not as far
as these guys have heard.

Guess that puts us right back
where we started, huh?

Mr. Reese, I think
there may be more to Lou

than meets the eye.

In fact, I think there may
be more to many of the gamblers

we saw at the casino.

Why do you say that?

Several of them are
also here at the pharmacy.

And it does seem strange that
Lou would pick up prescriptions

two days in a row.

I think I'll task an expert
to help us do a little digging.

I'll do some digging too.

Oh, come on, man.

The pharmacy is owned
by Lionwood Enterprises.

It's a shell company
if I've ever heard of one.

A shell?
For whom?

There are
several board members,

but they're all
conveniently unreachable.

I looked
into the tax paperwork,

and there's one partner
left off the public listing.

Does the name Darien Makris
mean anything to you?

It does, indeed.
Thank you, Mr. Tao.

You've been
wonderfully helpful.

Hey.

You're gonna tail me
around town,

at least have the stones
to introduce yourself, huh?

Come on. Come on.

I got it.

Sit.

What's your name?

Harold Quail.

So, Harold, you wanna tell me

why you've been following me
since I left my house

this morning?

I'm with the IRS,
Mr. Mitchell.

I'm looking
into the Venus Casino.

I was hoping to ask you
a few questions.

- Am I in trouble?
- Not with me.

But I have reason to believe
that you might need some help.

Where did you
get all the money?

You want answers out of me,
you have to earn them.

Baccarat.

One answer per hand.

From what I've seen,
Mr. Mitchell,

you're not that lucky.

Well, this should
go well for you. Bet.

Player.

7 on player, 9 on banker.

Too bad.

Looks like
you owe me an answer.

Why do you think I need help?

You've lost $320,000
in the last six months.

I imagine you are
in very serious debt.

No, no, no.
House rules.

I'm dealing.

Banker.

Oh, tough luck.

How do you know
I'm not independently wealthy?

Because I've seen your taxes
and your credit reports.

Player.

This is not your day, Harold.

You lose again.

What?

Are you calling me
a cheater, Harold?

No one likes a sore loser.

Mr. Mitchell, I believe
that you may be in grave danger.

Let me help you.

When people need help,
they think, "call the IRS."

This guy's got the check!

Mr. Mitchell,
please, I...

Here you go, hon.

Thank you.

Hey, you like seafood?

Go fish.

Oh, dear.

Got eyes on Lou, Finch.

But where are you?

I decided to return
to the library.

Decided?

Lou gave you the slip,
didn't he?

When he deposited my keys
in a tank full of crustaceans,

I got the distinct impression

that he didn't appreciate
being followed.

And, Mr. Reese,
Lou is much luckier

outside the walls
of the casino.

I think he's throwing
those games at the Venus,

but I can't imagine
why he would intentionally lose

his own money.

Didn't you like the slots?

Oh, no, you know,
it's the same old thing

over and over again.

I thought I'd try the tables.

Mr. Reese, that lady
with the bouffant,

she's losing money
at the same rate Lou is.

- So?
- She's been doing it longer.

She's down $405,000.

And the woman with
the fondness for tanning oil,

$261,000.

All of these people
that we see with Lou,

they've lost enormous sums
of money.

That's more than a coincidence.

There must be a reason
why they're doing that.

You think they're losing
intentionally as well?

Why?

Perhaps we should ask the man
who owns both the casino

and the pharmacy.

Makris.

If the police are right
and Makris is running

a drug operation,
he needs to launder dirty money.

He's using senior citizens
as couriers.

They lose the money
at the tables,

and it gets laundered

into the casino's cash pool
every day.

The police wouldn't think twice
about old people

losing money at a casino.

You know what else
the police would never suspect?

An old person
picking up a prescription.

Finch...

the pharmacy is a dead drop.

Makris has got a whole stable
of money mules

transporting cash for him.

These aren't
exactly drug lords.

Safe bet, Makris
is forcing them to do this.

But Lou's is
the only number that came up.

Why is he in more danger
than the others?

Maybe because he's skimming
off the laundered money.

And if Makris has found out,

I bet he'd kill anyone
to protect his investment.

Detective Szymanski,

did you talk to Anthony Marconi
two nights ago?

- No. Absolutely not.
- No?

Then when was the last time
you guys talked?

The last time
I talked to that guy,

his men shot me.

It's bad business.

Cal, the tip came in
from Narcotics about Szymanski.

Do you know who made the call?

The star witness...

Look, Joss--

It was you?

Who's your CI?

You know I can't tell you that.

Like hell you can't.

You think I enjoy
taking another cop down?

The evidence speaks for itself.

Then I guess
there's nothing else to say.

- Hey, Carter.
- Yeah.

I called one of the guys
Stills reported at the 51st--

- Can we talk later, Terney?
- Sure, sure.

Okay, thanks.

I need you to tell me
the truth about something.

There's no Santa.
It was your parents.

I'm serious, Fusco.

It's about Beecher.

Have you ever heard
anything about him?

Carter, you and I put
a bunch of dirty cops away.

But trust me on this,
HR's not gone.

Not by a long shot.

Anybody could be on the take.

As far as Beecher,
I don't know.

But if you follow that money
they found on Szymanski,

you might not
like what you find.

Ah, you burned through
those chips fast today, Lou.

You're killing me,
Jen, killing me.

Better luck tomorrow.

Hey, old man.
Got that popcorn you wanted.

- Out of my way.
- Sorry, gramps.

You've been skimming
from the boss.

We gotta get you
away from here.

You can trust me.
I'm with--

- Harold?

Yeah, I figured.

So I guess you're not
really with the IRS, huh?

Is it that obvious?

Now I think you
owe Harold some answers.

Yeah.

You want to tell me
who you really are?

That's not important.

But when I said
we want to help you,

that was the truth.

Why are you working for Makris?

My Marilyn got cancer.

Really advanced.

Only hope we had
was a stem cell treatment.

We didn't have enough
to cover it.

I had to improvise.

So you went to the casino.

I was right, wasn't I?

That's like calling
a white truffle athlete's foot.

I'm the best damn card mechanic
in Atlantic City.

So you got the money.

Yeah, and the treatment.

But sometimes,
your luck just runs out.

A few days after Marilyn passed,
Makris got his hands

on an old list of card sharps.

He saw your name on the list,
and he came around,

asking for his money back,

but of course
you didn't have it.

So he takes your wedding ring

and Marilyn's jewelry
as collateral,

and he puts you to work
laundering money.

Said it would just
be a couple of months.

I get a feeling
this is a lifetime gig.

So is that
why you started skimming?

I lose everything
he tells me to,

so what if I win a little back?

Clearly Makris
sees it differently.

Lou, I'm not going to let him
come after you ever again.

Yeah?

In the meantime,

it would be best
if you left town.

Here's a ticket, enough money
to keep you comfortable.

There's a lovely place
waiting for you in Chicago.

I can't leave Marilyn.

There's a plot for me
right next to her.

It's got my name on it
and everything.

Lou, I know
exactly how difficult it is

to have to leave
someone behind.

You lost someone too?

I had to move on.

So must you.

40 years ago,
the mob caught me sharping.

Beat me all to hell,
broke all my fingers.

Left me for dead.

A waitress found me
in a dumpster

behind the diner.

Marilyn.

I was ready to give up.

But she gave me something
to live for, you know?

Because of her,
I gave up gambling.

I used these hands
to fix watches instead.

She saved me, Harold.

And she'd want you
to save yourself now.

Chicago will be cold.

Don't worry, Lou, my associate
will make sure Makris thinks

you've been eliminated.

So you think
I'll be able to come back?

Maybe.
Eventually.

At my age, there's
not much eventually left.

Lou's safe for now,

but Makris will never stop
looking for him.

He knows too much.

And we can't abandon
all the other elderly people

under Makris's thumb.

Do we have the evidence
to put him behind bars?

Unfortunately, no.

Money launderers
keep two sets of books.

The cooked numbers
you show the IRS

and the real books to keep track
of your extralegal gains.

At the moment,

those books
are beyond my reach.

Well, what would we need
to get them within your reach?

A distraction.

Here you are, sir.

Thank you.

There was a stripper pole
in that thing.

I feel weirdly grimy.

So this guy's dealing drugs?

That's putting it mildly.

Based on the financial
information I've seen,

he's laundering profits
on the order of eight figures.

Wow.
I'm jealous.

Angry.
I'm angry.

He must be stopped.

Indeed.
Ergo, you are now

Jason Bao, playboy millionaire.

Welcome to the Venus,
Mr. Bao.

- Thank you, sir.
- Right this way.

When a high roller
starts betting big,

Makris and his security
pay attention.

If they're all looking at you,
they won't be watching us.

That's it, right up here.

How much is this?

$1 million, as you requested.

Can we get
some tequila shots, please?

- Right away.
- Absolutely.

A million?

You trust Leon
with that much of your money?

Absolutely not, but I'm afraid

it's the cost
of doing business.

Whoo!
Oh, wow!

Good luck.

Luck?
Merely a construct, Mr. Reese.

Ah, found the casino's servers.
This shouldn't take long.

Let Leon have
a little fun at least.

Finch, I thought
you sent Lou out of town.

I did.

Well, not far enough.
He's back.

And it looks like he's gambling
every chip he's ever skimmed.

Player bet wins.

Does he have any idea
what he's doing?

Makris thinks he's dead.

Makris is not gonna like it
when he sees a dead guy

winning his money.

Someone would
like a word. Now.

Look, I'll pay you back
for the ticket.

Lou, we're accessing
Makris's personal files

in search of the proof we need
to put him away.

We can't do that and protect you
at the same time.

I made a promise, Harold.

To Marilyn,
right before she passed.

She grabbed my arm.
She knew what I was thinking.

That-- that maybe
I'd, you know, join her.

And she told me
she didn't save my life,

so I could throw it away.

And you haven't.

Laundering drug money?
That's a living?

And now to just run away?

No. No, I'm taking back
every dime I put in his pocket.

Please.

I don't want to die a loser.

Very well.

Then if we're gonna do this,
we're gonna do it right.

I think you can take Makris
for more than the 320,000.

But to win big,
you have to bet big.

So I'm staking you.

And you'd better be as good
as you say you are.

$2 million, Mr. Mitchell.
Good luck.

Natural nine.
Player bet wins.

The more he wins, Mr. Reese,
the more attention he'll get.

You'll have
to keep close watch on him.

Finch, hurry up
and get those documents.

Pardon me.

_

The goons you sent to kill Lou,

they're in the trunk
of a taxi headed to Vermont.

You think that's gonna stop me?

Mr. Reese,
I've found the real books.

I'm emailing them to you now.

Your security will play nice,

or the IRS and the FBI
will see this.

You're gonna let him play.

_

Whoo!

_

I'm finished.

Where's Leon?

You remind me of a girl...

Candi.

Have you ever
considered pink hair?

$20,320,000.

Direct deposit.

Louis Mitchell.

Mr. Makris.

Congratulations,
Mr. Mitchell.

_

I can't believe it.
I thought I was gonna die.

Finch, we're out.
Finch?

Is that his name?

We found your friend Finch.

And Mr. Bao.

You can't run a casino without
being able to spot a fake.

I was gonna do this quietly,

but now
we're gonna have some fun.

Lou, I had such
a nice surprise the other day.

A dealer told me that
your luck had finally turned.

You walked away $500 up.

And that's when I realized
you've been skimming.

Tens of thousands of dollars,
right under my nose.

Listen--

All you had to do
was lose, old man.

So before you die,

I'm gonna make you realize

that you are a loser.

And that's all
you're ever gonna be.

You like games, right, Lou?

Huh?

Roulette's my favorite.

It's just you versus the wheel.

You may skate by
for a spin or two.

But in the end,
the house always wins.

I'll give you
all the money back, just don't--

just stop this.
Just stop it.

Oh, he's safe.

For now.

Come on, man.
You gotta save me.

That's your thing!

Not him either.

The odds are getting worse.

Sometimes your luck
just runs out.

Hey, dumbass...

I cheated.

It's not like
I'm still crying over Candi.

But it's always the same story,
you know?

You find a girl you like.

She's tall, she's pretty,

and it turns out
someone paid her to handcuff you

to a bed,
so they could murder you.

Same old story.

I gotta learn
to protect myself.

Maybe protect other people
like you guys.

That sounds like a great plan.

I'm turning over
a new leaf, dude.

What?

Saving people costs money!

Carter.

What's the rush?

I think Szymanski was set up.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Oh, Fusco, you were right
about following the money.

You know those marked bills

IAB found in Szymanski's place?

Well, the FBI placed them
in a bodega run by Elias.

Six days later,
NYPD did a raid there,

but the marked bills
never showed up in evidence.

They just disappeared.

So either Elias moved the money

or someone on the force
grabbed it,

giving HR a perfect way
to set up a good cop.

Wow, Carter,
that's real police work.

That should be enough
to get IAB off his back.

It was definitely enough
to get him out on bail

by the end of the day.

And it should let him
testify against the Yogorovs.

Carter.

_

Yeah?

This means someone
does have it out for Szymanski.

You watch your back.

You don't want them
turning on you next.

Thank you.

I understand your winnings
are tied up as evidence.

Yeah, well, it doesn't matter.

As long as it
keeps Makris locked up.

You know,
your poker face needs work.

You had plans for that money.

I figured out
why you skimmed all that cash,

what you wanted to buy.

What's that?

A diner.

That's you and Marilyn,
isn't it?

Yeah, this place was
a home to us for 40 years,

but the owner kept
threatening to shut it down.

I wanted to keep it alive.

But now that Makris's offer
is off the table,

problem solved.

Until another offer
comes along.

Yeah, well,
nothing lasts forever.

I've been meaning
to have someone look at this.

That's a $2-million watch.

It was.

Unfortunately, I stepped on it.

If someone was interested
in repairing it...

You know, your wife,
the one you lost.

She lost a good man.

She's smiling down
on you right now.

Wait.

You mean she's not dead?

You know, for a genius,
you're an idiot.

It's too late, Lou.

You're still breathing.
It's not too late!

Go to her, Harold.

Today, while you
still have time.

_

You all right?

I heard what Lou said to you.

Oh.

You were listening?

Always.

You did what you had to do
to keep her safe, Harold.

Lou doesn't know that.

But I do.

And if I were to return
to my old life,

it would eventually
cost Grace hers.

Some of us
don't get to grow old

with the one we love.

You ask me,
Lou's the luckiest guy I know.

I'll grow old with her,
Mr. Reese, just from afar.

And beyond that,

it's best not
to think about it.

_

Who is this?

Tell your boss the deal's off.

They didn't drop the case.

The ADA just
added more charges.

Witness tampering.

I should have known
not to trust an old man.

You know, Yogorov,

you really ought to have
more faith in my boss.

As you know,
the mayor is very invested

in this case
against the Yogorovs.

So he's asked me,
his chief of staff,

to ensure that the case
is moving forward,

despite recent setbacks.

These charges against
Detective Szymanski have HR

written all over them.

We've been working on this case
against the Russian mafia

for nearly a decade.

We are not gonna let
the Yogorovs go anywhere.

They can't intimidate us,
and they can't stop us.

We're gonna put
the Yogorov brothers away

until their grandkids
can't remember their names.

Exactly what I want to hear.

Detective Terney...

are we clear on the story?

Shooter ran out the back?

Right shoulder.

You got it, boss.

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com