Original subtitles

Previously on Reacher...

She sent Anna an address.

First floor is an abandoned restaurant.

Looks like it's under some kind of renovation.

That's where we're headed to next.

I got a GSW to the chest!

Check in on Russell Plum.

Tell him I'm sorry I left him at the library.

The night my sister died,

she had a jump drive with a decades-old photo.

General Putra wants to take a photo with the two of us.

The whiteboard was in the background, out of focus.

Newly developed AI can essentially refocus the lens.

It's working.

It contains the formula

for a chemical weapon of mass destruction.

You send a suicide bomber

with that stuff strapped to him into Times Square,

he'll kill everyone within a ten-block radius.

Make enough to kill thousands.

Lila's auctioning off the drive on the dark web

at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.

They're gonna kill people tonight to prove it works.

When I said Delta hunted down and took out General Putra,

I was the one who pulled the trigger.

The woman calling herself Amisha saw me do it.

They're hitting here. Where are you?

This is happening now.

Right now, they don't know we know.

Our best chance is to neutralize the attack.

How?

Freeze, asshole!

Don't fucking move!

Get in!

Go!

What the hell happened?

Sampson tackled the bomber into the river.

The water stopped the toxin from aerosolizing.

Sampson's dead.

Shit.

He saved a lot of lives.

Temporarily.

No one's gonna buy that bomb unless they see that it works.

Lila and Amisha will try again.

And we have no idea where.

Tomorrow's morning commute, like we thought.

Maybe something else.

I don't know, but it's gonna happen soon.

We have to tell someone.

Who? They're gonna blame us for this.

We're at the site of the bombing

and then take off in a van after we sent all those cops

to the concert for nothing?

They're gonna think we did that as a distraction.

We got to ditch this van.

Find me a busy restaurant.

Ma'am, we're gonna need to get you out of here

in case of a second attack.

There was a crew shooting video of the event.

I want to see every frame before the police get ahold of it.

We don't know who we can trust, and I'm not gonna let anyone bury this.

We're gonna find who killed John...

and we're gonna make them fucking pay.

It's been too long.

I don't like him doing this.

He's least likely to draw attention.

He's small-town, but he's capable.

You know he intends to kill Lila and Amisha,

or whatever the hell their names really are.

Good.

Better world without 'em.

Yeah, well...

it's hard to go back to Mayfield after you body someone,

even if they deserve it.

They already killed Anna and Ben.

They shouldn't get to take his life, too.

I didn't want him involved in the first place.

That's him.

Good choice.

Popular car, dark color.

We won't stand out.

So glad I'm a good car thief.

Head to D.C.

- Plum's loft? - Feds and local cops will have

pulled the place apart by now.

Plum's in the hospital. We'd have no reason to go back.

Last place anyone would look.

Keep it under 70.

We get pulled over, we have a problem.

Copy that.

Multiple inches of rain per hour,

with even heavier downpours overnight.

We're also tracking a high number of lightning strikes

within the leading edge of the system,

and that's expected to increase

as the storm approaches the city.

We'll continue updating this

throughout the evening, so keep it here

as we track tonight's unseasonably strong summer storm.

Oh, shit.

Just in, we have more on the attack

that killed North Carolina representative

and recently-announced presidential candidate John Sampson.

- Shit. - A camera crew covering

the Feed America event at the waterfront

caught this footage

of Congressman Sampson...

tackling the suicide bomber into the water...

sacrificing himself

to save countless lives.

We caution that this footage is disturbing.

Congressman Sampson's widow, Elspeth Sampson,

is asking that anyone with information

about this man, or his accomplices,

to please reach out directly

to Congressman Sampson's head of security at this number.

"Tomas Waberi."

Oh...

Okay.

Shit.

Okay.

The fuck?

Excuse me.

Help me to get him into bed.

You just had surgery. What in God's name

were you trying to do?

Who you trying to call?

I ain't on the wrong side of all this.

Jacob Merrick asked me to come here and check on you.

He said he's sorry he left you at the library,

whatever the fuck that means.

What's going on?

Tomas... Waberi.

You were trying to call him?

No. That's...

the suici...

suicide bomber.

Are you sure about that?

I'm sure.

I'm s...

Okay.

- I'll take it from here. - Okay.

You did good, Plum.

Clear!

Clear!

- Clear! - Damn.

Clear!

Clear!

Shit.

Docherty, what up?

Your boy Plum pointed us to the guy who killed Sampson.

Russell's okay?

He's jacked up, but alive.

Nearly ripped himself apart

trying to get us the name of the bomber, Tomas Waberi.

Now, we ran it down. He rented a car when he landed.

Rental agency used GPS to trace it to a warehouse.

Car was in the lot, but place was empty.

Only thing they left behind was

a sealed, 45-gallon drum

with a dead kid inside.

Never seen anything like it.

They tested the toxin on him.

Anything pointing to where they went?

Credit card that bought Waberi's plane ticket picked up 13 more

for a red-eye tonight,

two first class, 11 coach.

Lila and Amisha are first class.

The other 11, figure a computer expert,

a chemist, maybe an explosives guy to rig the vest.

The rest are trained killers.

Reinforcements brought in when things went to hell.

Well, we're tracking down the names they'll be flying under.

It's gonna be all hands on deck at PHL.

They won't show.

- Why not? - 'Cause the attack failed.

They didn't prove to bidders their chemical weapon works.

Tell that to fish in the Delaware.

Better yet, tell that to John Sampson.

Trust me, these assholes proved their point.

Their point was to demonstrate a chemical weapon

that's effectively lethal outdoors.

They aren't going anywhere.

They got what they came for.

All that's left for them is to get out of Dodge and cash in.

When they arrive at the airport, we'll be waiting.

Just keep your heads down until we got 'em in custody.

You were there when a congressman exploded.

Everyone thinks you're working with 'em.

Don't be a fucking hero.

Are you 100% on Lila and Amisha not running off?

Pretty much.

Well, we need to find them,

'cause the cops aren't looking.

They could be anywhere.

Not anywhere.

They need somewhere they can cook the poison.

Somewhere they can pivot to quickly,

a place no one would think they'd go.

Fuck.

They're doing what we're doing.

Circling back to where the cops already looked.

The vacant restaurant building?

Turn around.

First batch is good.

Another hour and we'll have what we need.

Great.

Can't let Amisha down, yeah?

One hour.

Any luck?

Crop duster rental 25 miles outside the city.

Perfect for our needs.

Storm's coming.

Rain'll tamp down the poison cloud, limit casualties.

Forecast says it'll blow over by rush hour.

Relax. Tomorrow, we'll be rich.

Hey. Give it to me.

When he's finished, put a bullet in his laptop.

I can just delete the hard drive.

We need to be certain no one has the formula but us.

When Ben was little,

I taught him to count the seconds

between thunder and lightning

and divide by five.

That's how many miles away the storm is.

And that way, he knew the thing that scared him...

wasn't as close as he thought.

He must have been so scared...

for so long at the end.

The thing that terrified him was right there in the room with him.

Hey.

You go in there blind with hate,

you're gonna be the first one to die.

Get your head on right.

Okay?

- They're in there. - You saw 'em?

From what I could make out through the cracks in the plywood.

Saw Lila walk by and about a half-dozen goons.

Who cares? They're in there.

We have the element of surprise.

It's 13 to three.

Be nice to have some backup.

We're still very wanted.

There's no way law enforcement's gonna take personnel

off the airport setup on our say-so.

What about Elspeth Sampson?

Could she make 'em listen?

Doubt she'd take my call.

But if she did, and if she believed us,

there's no way they'd risk pulling Feds off the airport

after they learned who she got the tip from.

We're on our own.

- Ready. - Here.

What about you?

I'm gonna get my own.

One, two, three, four,

five.

One, two, three, four,

five.

I'll check the fuse box.

It's okay.

Power loss brings the elevator back to the lowest floor.

I'll go up and draw as many as I can to me.

You two kill who's ever left behind

and get whatever poison that's already been made out of here.

How you gonna draw 'em up?

I'm gonna get their attention.

They'll see you in there.

I'm not going inside.

The Betsy Ross Bridge looks promising.

If traffic is jammed, people have no way to escape.

What about this section of I-676? It's longer.

Higher death count.

Go see who it is.

That's our cue.

Find out what the hell that was.

Reacher.

Lila.

What did I tell you on the bridge?

We cannot spend our money if we are dead.

We are paying these men a fortune for a reason.

You. Go find Reacher.

How will I know him?

He's the one killing everybody. Go!

Cover me!

Three, two, one.

Stop! You hit the toxin, we all die!

Give me that!

- What is it? - It has mercury fulminate

for the suicide vest.

Now go get the toxin.

Oh, f...

Don't let her kill me.

He's out.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Let's go, asshole.

No!

What the hell's happening down there?

The chemist is dead.

Take whatever toxin we have,

find a crowd and use it.

A nightclub.

I thought it had to be used outdoors.

It's the middle of the night.

Where are we gonna find an outdoor crowd?

Listen to me carefully.

I need to show the buyers a body count.

Now grab a respirator and do it,

or I make sure

everyone you've ever cared about is dead by morning!

Tamara.

Hey. Hey.

Hey. Tamara.

Tamara, hey. Look at me.

Okay. You're okay.

You're okay.

Bidders are gonna get their show.

- Let's go end this. - Wait.

I'm just an AI tech.

You can't just leave me here.

You're right.

This way!

Fuck.

No. No!

No.

No!

No, no, no.

You should've minded your business on that train.

People keep telling me that.

I can't tell which taillights are his.

Shit, where is he?

We're gonna enjoy this.

Oh, fuck!

You're losing a lot of blood.

You're weakening.

Soon, you'll pass out,

then we'll strap you to a table like we did to Anna's son.

Then...

the fun starts.

Should've heard the boy cry for his mother.

Will you cry for yours, too?

No.

Hey, asshole! You can't park there!

I don't see him.

That's his car.

Got his ass.

Philly PD! Move!

Up top!

Put it down!

I'll blow your fucking head off.

He drops that jar, everyone in here dies.

We should go get that.

I don't know what I enjoy more,

fucking you or killing you.

I know which one I like more.

I am goddamn impressed, Reacher.

Assume you killed everyone in there?

Looks like they got a few licks of their own in, too.

Surprised to see me?

After our last run-in...

figured the smart thing to do was to just...

follow you around.

Wait for you to bring the drive to me.

Thanks for taking care of the hard part.

Your sister and nephew died like cowards.

I will not.

Take it to hell!

You're under arrest for the murder...

for the murder of John Sampson...

Benjamin Merrick, and Anna Merrick.

You have the right to remain silent.

And anything you say

can and will be used against you

in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford one,

one will be appointed to you.

If you decide to answer questions now...

He's risen.

Where's the drive?

Look in your hand.

You almost killed the paramedics who tried to take it from you.

Why aren't I cuffed?

No charges.

Lots of bodies can be traced back to me.

My blood's all over that building.

Sampson's widow's not to be fucked with.

DOD took charge of the scene,

spun a whole story about a federal raid.

Kept your name out of it.

Figured you'd prefer it that way.

I got some credit, though.

So did Jacob.

How is he?

Okay, considering.

Been trading shifts with me, babysitting you.

How about you?

Truth?

I think we're past the point of lying to each other.

Feel pretty good.

Better than I have in a while.

Think I'm ready to be a cop again.

What about retirement?

Ask me again in 20 years.

What the hell are you doing?

Leaving.

Sir, what are you doing?

Leaving.

That's not the doctor's orders.

I stopped taking orders when I left the Army.

I'm getting Dr. Newhook.

Where are my clothes?

Got you some new gear.

New boots are on that little table in the corner.

Get dressed fast. I don't need to see your ass.

Doc said that big scar you had saved your life.

Thick scar tissue kept the blade shallow.

Hadn't've been for that, you wouldn't be here.

Lucky me.

Oh.

Here's your sad little bag of shit from when they arrested you.

Passport, toothbrush, burner phone, and cash.

I threw in a few extra bucks.

You're poor, Reacher.

Thanks.

But I need another favor.

What?

I want you to get something back for me.

Sir. Sir?

You can't have that in here!

Reacher.

I brought you something.

- He's yours now. - What?

Hey.

I'm gonna call you Walter Cron-Cat.

Man, you do not look so good.

Neither do you.

You know, Jacob and Tamara came by.

They told me it was over.

Not yet.

I kept telling people I'd know what I'd do with this when I found it.

Write your story.

Get your Pulitzer.

Take care of the cat, Plum.

Take care of yourself, Reacher.

Hey.

I told you the pen was mightier than the sword.

Sword played its part, too.

Hello?

Yes.

I'll see you in 15 minutes.

Cream and sugar?

No, thanks.

Me, neither.

Cream and sugar's just gilding the lily.

Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice.

Thank you for making sure I won't face charges.

It's amazing the good will my husband's name carries now.

All it took was him dying a hero.

Washington's mostly empty suits spouting empty promises.

Not many people there impress me.

John Sampson did.

So do you.

That's nice to hear...

since I'm considering picking up his mantle.

Two ethical politicians from the same family.

Who would've thought?

Can I count on your vote?

Not registered.

No residence.

So, Reacher...

I guess the only thing left to discuss is...

where's the drive?

Safe.

But the story is gonna come out.

Good.

If my husband had known what was going on back in '98,

he'd have done something about it then.

I don't think he'd want the truth buried now.

That's why he would've been a great president.

You could be, too.

Reacher.

Springfield.

Ma'am, reporter's here to speak with you.

Okay. Thank you.

I'll leave you to it.

Can we give you a ride?

You could.

You fellas waiting for me?

Our bosses sent some B-team boys over to do a debriefing with you.

That's not gonna happen, is it?

Nope.

Look, can you just do us one solid?

We just need to put a little check in a little box

that says we asked you one very specific question.

Ask.

Did you receive or come into possession of a jump drive

at any time during your final interactions

with the two women operating under the aliases Lila and Amisha Hoth?

No.

Good enough.

Thank you for what you did for the country, Reacher.

You're welcome...

McMicheals.

McMicheals.

Jarvis.

Thank you.

You're welcome, Jarvis.

Buhner. Thanks, Reacher.

You're welcome, Buhner.

Stay on the B-team.

They don't get shot at.

So you can be together forever.

For action above and beyond the call of duty,

it is my honor to present Tamara Green

with the Philadelphia Police Department's.

Sergeant Robert Wilson III Medal of Valor.

It is also my great privilege

to immediately reassign you to Detective,

Homicide Division.

She deserves it, you know? About time.

Finally.

Fire!

Ready! Aim!

Fire!

Whiz Wit.