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- Mike!
- Whoo-hoo-hoo!

- What the hell are you doing?
- It's called driving, Marcus.

Slow down!

What? Four minutes? Speed up.

Oh, so you want me to speed up
and slow down at the same time?

Moving southbound on Collins.

- Fast approaching 22 Street.
- Copy that.

Air support has a visual.

Mike!

I'm about to throw up.

Oh, you bett... The hell not.

That is hand-stitched leather.
You better drink it.

Blocking off 6th Street.

That was your turn, Mike!

Damn it! Look, you are
the navigator, okay?

That's why you're sitting
in that seat.

Where are your glasses?
You need to put your glasses on.

- I don't need glasses.
- Marcus, you can't see shit.

Oh, sh... Mike. Mike. Mike.

- Relax. Relax!
- Mike. Bus, bus, bus.

Sorry, rich white people.

We're not just black,
we're cops too.

We'll pull ourselves
over later.

Hoo-hoo!

Hey, even the Batmobile don't
hold the road like this bitch.

- Whoo!
- Get me the fuck out of this car.

- Hey!
- Oh, shit.

Come on, man.

You can get that buffed out.

No. You can get that buffed out.

- Miami PD. Make a hole.
- Coming through.

- Make a hole. Miami PD.
- Miami PD.

Go! Go!

Sorry.

Daddy!

Joker.

You a pop-pop.

- Hi.
- Oh. Oh.

- Oh, baby, look at him.
- Yeah.

- No doubt. It's in the eyes.
- Mm-hm.

And the ears.

And the name.

Marcus Miles Burnett.

- But that's my name.
- His name too.

We decided to name him
after you.

It was Reggie's idea.

Thought it would be
a very respectful gesture, sir.

- I hope you approve.
- That's cool.

But you still need
to make a honest woman

out of my baby girl there.

Uncle Mike, ready
to hold the baby?

Oh, mm-mm. No. Uncle Mike
don't want to catch that.

Uh-uh, okay?
That's that shit.

- No, Mike.
- Stop.

Look at the baby.

Stop it right now.
Seriously.

- Look at the baby.
- Okay, you know what?

I'll be outside
when you get your shit together.

Mike.

- The baby.
- Oh, it's okay.

Aretas.

Aretas.

Mama.

Come here, Marcus. Come here.

We're here to celebrate and to
raise a glass to one of our own.

And I sincerely hope
that someday

your namesake follows
in the footsteps

of his old-ass grandpa...

...to protect and serve
our fair city.

To Marcus.

To Marcus!

May the name Marcus Burnett

strike fear into the hearts
and minds of assholes

for years to come.

Thank y'all. Thank...
Thank you all.

Mike and I, we're going on 25
years of working these streets.

And I like to think
we made a difference.

You all are the best.

And I thank you.
It's been a real honor.

Marcus!

Marcus! Marcus! Marcus!

Daddy buried
that cash deep, huh?

If these are empty,
you're still gonna owe.

- Whoa!
- Mamma mia!

Buried treasure in the ocean.

I heard the stories,
pero coño...

Should cover the cost
of the materials we discussed.

And then some.

This is
what you get to keep.

What'd you say?

We had a deal.

I'm renegotiating.

Whoops.

Whoops.

Come here.

Look at me.

I don't renegotiate.

My family's taking back
management of this town.

We're gonna need some,
uh, loyal employees.

Who wants a job?

So how's your dental?

Say that again.

You give yourselves a raise.

You start with
that pile right there.

- Okay?
- Okay.

You work for me now.

Get your people to fall in line,

stay out of my fucking way,
and I won't kill you.

Vamos, muchacho,
get this money ¡Dale!

Vamos.

¡Vamos!

Mama.

Armando.

I'm done, Mike.

Oh, here we go again.

No, this time it's different.

When I looked into
that little baby's eyes,

something changed.

I want to spend my days

watching that little boy grow.

Man, Theresa does not want
your ass sitting at home,

getting fat and breaking shit.

You know, Mike, we got more time
behind us than in front.

It's time to make
some changes, for real.

You can miss me with that.
I'm living my best life.

You're dyeing
your goatee, Mike.

- What?
- You're dyeing your goatee.

I am not dyeing my goatee.

That's Midnight Cocoa Bean.
I recognize that.

- Go ahead with that shit.
- That ain't Midnight Cocoa...?

- Go ahead somewhere.
- Let me ask you something.

You want your legacy to be
muscle shirts and a body count?

Don't you know family
is all that matters?

Hey, granddaddy!

- Rita.
- Oh, no. Pop-pop.

He's going with Pop-pop.

- Pop-pop?
- Yeah.

Got pics, Pop-pop?

- Oh, you know I do, right?
- Let's see.

There you go.

Oh, my God, the ears!

Yeah, my grandbaby.
That's my grandbaby.

- I love him.
- Yeah.

And congrats to you,
lieutenant.

I hear Howard tapped you
to head up AMMO.

Wow, congrats.

What's AMMO?

Advanced Miami Metro Operations.

A small team trained
in new tactics

and investigative methods.

Gonna replace us old dogs.

- Or teach them some new tricks.
- Heh.

For real, Marcus.
So happy for you.

Thank you.

Hey, guys!

Hey! Everyone's here.

How are you?

Dumbass.

- What?
- She is perfect for you.

Smart as hell.

Confident. Ambitious.

She just wasn't the one for me.

- All right?
- What is for you?

Dying all alone
and sad as shit?

You just jealous.

How long you been married?
Twenty years?

- Twenty-six.
- Tell the truth.

When's the last time
you had sex?

- None of your damn business.
- Exactly.

How many great women
are you gonna let go? Heh.

I mean, you get
a lot of loving,

but have you ever
really been in love?

Of course. I mean, yeah,
I was... I was in love.

One time.

A long, long time ago.

You never told me.

Nigga, I don't tell you
all my business.

Look, all you need to know

is that I'll be running down
criminals till I'm 100.

You the last brother
that needs to be talking

about running down anyone
after the hospital.

The hospital?
What you talking about?

What happened at the hospital?

Running to see baby Marcus.

I dusted your ass.

You spent that run staring
at my one good ass-cheek, Mike.

You're saying that
you actually outran me?

- You beat me in a footrace?
- It's been said.

Oh, hell, no.

Nothing sadder than old men

revisiting the past.

Whoa, hey, no stretching.

Stretching is cheating.

- Hey, who you got, Cap?
- I got 50 on a torn ACL.

I ain't running for free.

- What's the bet?
- I win, we lay it down.

We turn in our papers
and we retire.

All right, well, when I win,

you stop all this
foolish retirement talk.

We ride this thing
till the wheels fall off.

- Bad boys for life.
- Uh, bad boys

ain't really boys anymore.

Hey, Cap, just
have the ambo on standby.

Old boy gonna need
fluids and oxygen.

- That's him, Cap. That's him.
- Okay.

On your mark, get set, go!

- Go, Marcus! You got this!
- Where you at?

- You got this! Breathe!
- Uh-oh, where you at?

Come on, baby!

Breathe, baby, breathe! Go!

Where you at, baby?!

Mike!

Mike. Mike! Oh, shit!
Get some help!

I got an officer down.
We're on Ocean Drive, 700 block.

- Hold on. Hey.
- Gunshot...

- Oh, shit.
- What happened?

- Just get... Get some help!
- Who did this?!

Who the fuck did this?!

Driving a motorcycle...

Come on. Don't do this.

- Mike, stay with us.
- Come on.

Get an ambulance!

- Come on, Mike. Come on.
- Hey, hey, hey.

Phone... I got him on the phone.

You gonna be all right.
You gonna make it through this.

Come on, man. Stay with us, man.

Come on, Mike. I'm right here.

Dear God...

it's me, Marcus.

You blessed me
with a lot of stuff lately.

I know I haven't been
to church in a while.

Probably Easter.

But I ain't gonna lie,

I wasn't paying attention.

I haven't lost faith.

It's just...

I was ashamed

at some of the stuff
we had to do.

I know "thou shall not kill,"

but they were bad guys,
all of them.

You know, Mike hardly had
a life yet.

No wife, no kids.

If you could just please
find it in your heart

to give him
one more chance, man.

Straight up,
he's my best friend.

My brother.

If you just spare him,

I swear to you,

I will put no more violence
in this world.

A drive-by shooting

has a famed Miami-Dade police
officer fighting for his life.

Witnesses report hearing shots

and a blacked-out bike
fleeing the scene.

Lowrey remains in critical...

Guys, let's run Cap through
what we got on the case.

Kelly, run us
through ballistics.

So the slugs
in Officer Lowrey were SS190.

P90 fires that caliber,
the Herstal.

But these were subsonic
5.7-by-28s, custom rounds.

I wanna know who made
those bullets.

We are watching 4chan

and cross-referencing
players in the market

with the feds' red lines.

Mike's like a son to me.

I want this asshole.

This is personal for me too.

Let's bring every single thing
we got, all right?

You got it.

Retired DA Rodrigo Vargas

was gunned down this afternoon.

The DEA is mourning

Jack Weber this evening,

a 20-year forensic investigator

for the agency in Miami.

There you are.

In yet another
execution-style homicide...

Judge Leon Sorenson was shot

outside his courthouse
late Wednesday.

The war on
law enforcement continues.

Three other law
enforcement personnel

have been killed
that could be linked.

- It's a war on the goddamn law.
- All the same shooter as Mike.

- Connected how?
- Traffic cams, witnesses,

tire treads all put the same
blacked-out bike at the scene.

We want to thank
you for joining us today.

It means a lot to the family.

And I now pronounce you
man and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

I really gotta
stop crying like this.

Hey, you guys are great.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it's time for our first toast.

I'm going to bring up
Officer Mike Lowrey,

affectionately known
as Uncle Mike.

All right. Let's do this.

First off, Reggie,

I am shocked that you
are even still here.

I remember your first date
with Megan,

and trust me, me and Marcus did
everything we could possibly do

to make sure
you never came back.

But I'm telling you,
love is hard.

And your relationship
will be tested.

And your father and I have
weathered storm after storm.

And we have a mantra
that we say to each other

in our darkest days,

and it always seems
to bring us back together.

And, Reggie, Megan, I would
like to share it with you.

We ride together,

- we die together.
- We die together.

Bad boys for life!

No.

- No, what?
- You know what.

The minute I heard
you were still breathing,

I've been waiting
for this shit to hit the fan.

Look at me, Mike. No.

You don't know
what I'm gonna say.

I know you. I know
what you're gonna say.

AMMO's got this.

AMMO?

Come on, Cap. AMMO?
With all due respect,

AMMO is a high school musical...

boy band with guns.
They don't even have shit.

How do you know what they have
or don't have? They have!

- What do they have? What?
- They have.

The bullets
they carved out of you,

they were custom rounds
for the P90 Herstal.

AMMO's gonna find the dealer

- that supplied your shooter.
- How?

State-of-the-art police work,
that's how.

Cap, look... All right.

- Sir.
- Sir?

You are desperate.

But I can't.

Mike, I can't let you

- investigate your own case.
- All right.

Let me investigate
the Vargas case.

No. The last thing I need

is having IAD shoving
a Hubble telescope up my ass

for a full-on colonoscopy.

- You know the rules.
- Fuck the rules, Cap.

Come on. Put me and Marcus
on this shit.

Have you talked to your partner?

You retired?

It's my daughter's wedding.

Do we have to do this right now?

Uh, yeah.

- I told you I was retiring.
- Wha...? What?

Wait, nah, hold up.
We raced, you lost.

Now you reneging? What happened
to bad boys for life?

Yeah, for life. It's off.

You died.

What? The hell
are you talking about?

You coded out, Mike,
three times.

Marcus, look,

this motherfucker
stole something from me

and I need it back.

What did he take from you, Mike?

You're still here.

All he took from you
was the legend,

"Bulletproof Mike."

But I saw you
on the ground bleeding.

You're human,
just like the rest of us.

Yeah, his ass bleeds too.

Heh, I'm telling you, Mike.

You go out there for vengeance,
you gonna get someone killed.

Oh, we definitely
bringing some smoke.

That fool put holes in me!

And you're filling them
with hate, Mike.

Look, you need to start thinking
about your karma, man.

This was a sign.

A sign, yeah.
A sign to turn up.

I'm supposed to bow down?
Give this bitch a pass?

"Turn up"? What are you, 20?

You need to turn that shit off.

You know, Mike, heh...

Rita called me every day
you were in the hospital.

There's something
still there, a future.

My future is hunting
this motherfucker.

Well, it's not mine.

All right. So let me
get this straight.

So somebody get to dump my ass
out in the street

and you ain't gonna do shit?

You just gonna quit?

How dare you, man?

I sat by your bedside.

I wiped the drool
off your chin, Mike.

Don't disrespect me like that
because you don't know.

All right, all right.
All right, man.

Look, Marcus,

I'm asking you.

I'm begging you, man.

I need this.

Bad boys...

one last time.

No, Mike.

No.

Mama.

Video of a
shooting of a Miami detective

has surfaced online, going
viral in a matter of hours.

The video first appeared
on the darknet

and soon spread
to mainstream social media.

Authorities believe the shooter
uploaded the video himself.

Too slow.

You're slipping.

Still had the key.

What's up?

Howard told me
you wanted back in.

Obviously, that can't happen.

Says who?

Michael...

you got shot.

Yeah, people keep
reminding me of that.

Well, why do you think
that is? Huh?

Oh, you shrinking me now.

You say that
when you don't wanna get real.

No, I always say that
when you start shrinking me.

Hey, this is the type of case

that AMMO was built for.

You just have to trust me,
that's all.

Oh, come on. What?

Why you always go there?

This don't have nothing to do
with me trusting you or not.

- Oh, no?
- No.

Are you even healed?

- Yeah, I'm fine. Yeah.
- Yeah?

- You sure you're fine?
- Oh, shit. Rita.

- You sure you're fine? Hey.
- Rita. Stop. Rita.

This is me
you're trying to bullshit.

If you get involved,

you're gonna make mistakes
you can't take back.

- Hasta el fuego.
- "Hasta el fuego."

What does that mean?
Where'd you get that?

Until you burn? Until you die?

You know me well enough to know
not to ask me to quit.

It's because I know you,
I'm asking.

Because I care about you.

As a friend.

Let us handle this.

Shit. Alexa,
turn down the volume.

Oh! Oh!

Oh!

Ah! Marcus!

You need to get out
of the house!

Sorry, baby.

So sorry.

How about a spa day?

- Is that Manny's car?
- Yeah.

- Where's Manny?
- He's in the back.

Oh, shit. Mike Lowrey.
What are you doing here, man?

You look like a ghost, man.

You know they say
you're dead, fuckboy.

I gotta show you something.

The streets is talking.

That cop shit
ain't working for you.

Come work for me
at Manny's Prime Rib.

See, look, you get dropped
right here.

And guess what.

You're trending worldwide.

Ow! My fucking hand, man!

Yo, this ain't
no fucking cop shit, man!

What happened
about reading my rights?

This is not how
it's supposed to go.

You're supposed
to ask me questions,

and then I tell you,
"Go fuck yourself!"

What the fuck, man?

Fuck! Ow!

My fucking hand, man.

P90 Herstals, custom,
who's making them?

Mike, I'm not
in the game no more.

Oh, nah? Okay. My bad.

Ah! Mike, Mike,
fucking chill, man.

So all these vegans in Miami,

and you want me to believe
that that hot rod

outside comes
from selling pork chops?

I work at Manny's.
I'm a family man,

- and I'm a hardworking man.
- Oh. I got you...

Oh, shit. Oh, man.

Did you just get pig fat
on my suit?

Sorry, Mike.

Sorry.

No! Booker Grassie!

That's the name! Booker Grassie!

That's the name, man!

Yo, Mike! Mike! Yo, Mike!

The handcuffs, man!

Booker Grassie.
Only arms dealer in Miami

customizing for the P90 Herstal.

- What'd I tell you?
- I know.

I'm not supposed
to investigate my own case.

But this fool posted a video
of him trying to kill me.

I saw it.

I can go after him
vigilante style,

or you can bring me in.

Or I could shoot you myself.

Fuck me!

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!

- If...
- Mm-hm.

...I bring you in, to consult,

and you go cowboy on me,

I need you to comprehend
the level-five shitstorm

I will be drowning in.

No gold-plated watch.

No cop retirement village.

I'm sticking myself out
on a skinny limb!

Scratch that.
A twig in an ice storm!

Me, on the edge, "tithering."

You mean, teetering?

That's what I said!

And picture me very fat!

Uh, think I got the image, Cap.

- What is he doing here?
- He's gonna be helping out.

- I don't want him.
- I'm not working with her.

He's not. You're not.
He's consulting. It's your show.

- Captain, come on.
- Wait.

I know you guys
got history together,

- so let's not make it personal.
- Personal?

I'm the only one
being professional.

This is not détente. I'm
informing you of my decision.

This is a bad idea.

He's gonna investigate
this case, no matter what!

So this way, we keep him on
a short leash, we control him.

Uh, I'm standing
right here, Cap.

Mike will consult.

He'll observe.

That's it.

Now, what do you got?

Picked up chatter.
The dealer we think customed

those rounds,
he's making another sale.

- Booker Grassie.
- Uh-huh.

You share any other
confidential information?

What? Not me.
He's the one that told me.

Guess my old tricks
still work a little bit.

You're a distraction.

You see that?
That's what I like, teamwork.

Already
a beautiful relationship.

The video,
presumed to be posted by the shooter...

Guys. This is
Detective Michael Lowrey.

He'll be joining us
as an adviser only.

Police have no suspects.

And the shooter
is still at lar...

Nice to meet you all as well.

- Thrilled to see you've had...
- Sweet.

I am much better now. Thank you.

I am so sorry about that.

- You look good, Michael.
- Uh, look,

she calls me
by my whole government name,

but everybody...
You can just do Mike.

- For sure, Mike.
- Got it, Mike.

Yeah, sure thing, Michael.

- Ah, so you're that guy.
- Hey, there's always one.

- Yeah. Right up till there's not.
- What's that supposed to mean?

It's Mike Lowrey, okay?
Be cool. For once.

Let's load up!

Ooh.

Think I might be able to hang
out with you guys after all.

Nah, nah, that ain't the one.
We're taking The Crawdaddy.

Wait until you see the inside.

- You need any help, Gramps?
- Go ahead somewhere, boy.

Look at you trying to be
all cool and shit.

Okay, everybody
is way too serious.

Raids are supposed to be fun.

They're like field trips
with guns.

This is not a raid.
It's surveillance.

Surveillance? Right.

Meaning we're just gonna
watch the crime.

We'll record him in the deal

and bring him in
facing serious time.

Then we'll get him to talk
and he's gonna tell us

everything that we need to know.

Or since he's gonna be there
and we're gonna be there,

I mean, we could just grab him.

Well, thank you for your input.

Okay.

Listen up.

Booker Grassie is the guy

that sold the bullets
we took out of Michael.

Hey, look, um, you think
you could stop

calling me Michael
in front of everybody?

It's your name.

Okay.

Relax and clear your mind.

Use God's inspiration

to bring people
peace and tranquility

by penetrating their souls
with your heart.

We're here.

Excuse me, Mr. Lowrey.

- Just need to get past, please.
- Sure thing, buddy.

Uh, you're the tech, huh? Jeez.

They just leave you
in the van?

Yeah, I'm more, uh...
More comfortable in here.

Got it.

Sending in Big Barry.

You're not Big Barry?

He's our, uh,
surveillance drone.

Ah, so you send the drone in.

Let's fly.

I guess Barry gets
to have all the fun.

There. Black pickup truck.

- That's our H-77 Boyz.
- Who are they?

These guys are definitely
from out of town. Trying to step up.

I need wide angle, whole deal.

Zoom in.

Booker's hooking them up
with a crate of 5.7-by-28s.

- That's Booker Grassie.
- There's our deal.

Audio.

Here it is.

These will put a hole
through anyone

and anything
you point your gun at.

- I guarantee my product.
- He's right there, Rita.

- We can grab him.
- No.

I'm not risking
the collateral damage.

- Let's move.
- Let's wait.

- You're the boss.
- Yeah, I know.

- That's what I just said.
- I just confirmed it.

- Okay.
- You two used to date, right?

- Sort of.
- Not really.

Need to see the cash.

- See the cash.
- Wait.

Back. Go back.
Right there. That guy.

- What?
- I need to see it.

The bag is empty.

There's no money in the bag.
It's a rip.

I need to see yours.

They're gonna kill...
It's a rip.

- Michael.
- We need Booker alive!

Michael, get back here!

Shit. Kelly, go. Go!

Get me body cams.

Michael, do not engage

until we have the rest
of the team in position.

Can we count the cash, or what?

This is a nice song.
Put it louder.

Now!

Put it down! Put it down!

Can you hear me?

I'm gonna need you
to lay me down some cover.

We're coming to you.

All right. You wanna live,
you stay with me.

Fuck with me
and I'm gonna kill you.

Coming at you on three.

Bring the truck! Grab the merch!

One, two, three.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit. Hey. Hey. Booker.

Booker, look at me.
Hey. Hey. Don't die.

P90 Herstals. P90 Herstals,
who's the buyer?

Oh, shit.

- Hey, hey. Booker. Booker.
- Michael?

Hey, get an ambulance in here
now. Get the paramedics.

- Booker. Booker.
- Uh, Michael.

- Just bring them in.
- Calm down.

Hey, just do what I ask you
for once, please!

He's dead!

- Is that Diego or his twin?
- Shh!

Yeah, yeah, his twin.

Carmelita, no, no, no.

- Who this?
- It's Carver Remy.

Look here, I'm busy, all right?

Don't waste my time, Carver.
Leave me alone.

Come on, man. It's important.

Keep an eye on my baby.

- Marcus.
- I'm retired.

Only rats I talk to

are in my basement.

- Carmelita shot the wrong twin!
- Oh, shit.

The guy who shot Mike,
he's trying to kill me.

- What?
- I'm serious.

A guy on a black bike's
been tracking me.

The one on the news. It's him.

- Bullshit.
- Marcus, would I lie to you?

Yes. That's why we stopped
using your ass as a CI.

- I'm telling you, it's him.
- What do you want?

Protective custody. To not die.

Please, man.
Use me as bait, whatever.

You want this guy?
He's coming for me.

- You talk to Mike?
- I called you.

Nineteenth and Miami.
Third floor. I'll be waiting.

What did I say? No, no.
What did I say?

I said consult.
I said observe. I...

Look at this... This mess.
It's carnage!

I didn't do all this shit.
They did this to each other.

Wait, wait, wait.
You didn't shoot anybody?

- You know I shot some people.
- Yeah.

- Look, they had already started.
- What...?

Ah, Jesus. Mike, you promised.

- No, no, I didn't promise.
- You promised.

- I said I could picture you...
- Yeah.

...on a limb, fat as hell,
with sharks and some shit.

Right. That's a promise.

We were here to watch.

What? Yeah, and I saw.

All right, Cap, look.

The bag is empty,
all right? No cash.

The guy reached up
and scratched his nose.

I saw it had no weight to it.

- That's very impressive, sir.
- Yeah. See, I like that one.

If I hadn't come in, Grassie
was a dead man for sure.

That's a relief, because
your guy's in a body bag

- and he sure looks dead.
- Cap. Ah...

Good job, Mikey.

Hey, look. Young boy, seriously.

Let me tell you something.

Stay in a child's place,
all right?

Spare me the street knowledge,
grandpa. Nobody asked.

Just because
I fucked your mother

- don't make me your grandpa?
- Oh, oh, oh.

- Fucked my mother?
- That's enough.

- Stop.
- You got me fucked up.

- Old ass.
- Stand down! Let's go.

- You better go on.
- Let's go.

I will knock your ass
clean the fuck out.

- Knock me out. Hit me.
- What am I,

a nursery school teacher?
Come on, let's go!

Shit. I got time today.

Cool down. Keep walking.

- Excuse me, sir.
- Go ahead, man.

- Do you guys want a...?
- No, go.

Just go ahead somewhere.

What?

What, quitter?

This is some sad shit.

Where the hell is your ride?

Girls took it to the spa.

You all right?

I'm fine. You all right?

Never felt better.

I mean, you could,

if you wanted to,

just do the speed limit.

You let a Prius pass us.

And what is that? What, you got
your balls tucked up in there?

Hey. You know what?
Neither one of my balls

wanna be here
with your stupid ass.

You brought Little Marcus
on a murder investigation?

We're dropping him at the spa.

Dropping him off at the spa?

Carver is scared.
He is not gonna wait, man.

It's on the way, Mike.

And what's the person
that shot me

want with a snitch
like Carver Remy anyway?

I'm taking you
to find out, motherfucker.

Sorry about that, Little Marcus.

Pop-pop shouldn't be swearing
like that.

Only when you're dealing
with people like Mike Lowrey,

you got no fucking choice.

Sorry. There I go again.

- Take the baby in.
- Oh, I ain't going in there.

Then you ain't gonna find out
who tried to kill you.

See, if I go in there,
I know who's gonna kill me.

- Theresa Burnett.
- Stop fucking around.

Take your baby. Go ahead.

Mike, Carver's scared.

He ain't gonna wait all day.

All right.

All right.

Uh-uh. No. Mike! Mike!

Tell Marcus I'm gonna kill him!

Go, go!

- Go, go, go!
- What'd she do? What'd you do?

- Is she coming? Oh, shit!
- Go, go, go!

Mike, you known Theresa
a long time.

How pissed would you say
she was?

- What you mean? Like, one to 10?
- Yeah, 10 being...

Like when I broke up
with your sister?

No. That was me at a 10.

- Why would you bring that up?
- All right. I'm just trying to...

No, a Theresa 10 would be...

Me that time you spilled
Frappuccino in my Ferrari.

Yeah, yeah, that's it.
That's it.

Uh, she's probably
like a nine, then.

- A nine? Oh, sh...
- Yeah, man.

Oh, shit.

Better make it a 10.

Forgot to give her
the baby wipes.

Oh, tragedy.

Are you stopping?

Dude, that was a yellow light.

We are in a hurry. Come on...

Oh, what? You embarrassed
to be seen like this?

We got Mike Lowrey here!

Mike Lowrey in a Nissan Quest!

Nobody gives a shit, Mike.

He's... He's my Uber driver!

A big part of fighting crime

is being ahead of the criminals.

You don't have
to stop for pigeons.

You just drive up to them.
They'll fly away.

That better be a safe...

or a piano.

Oh!

- This is my wife's car!
- And that's fucking Carver Remy!

You don't know that's Carver
Remy. That could be anybody.

- Cover the front door!
- I'm retired!

I'm a civilian!

Oh...

This is a sign.

It's a sign from God.

Oh!

Oh, shoot.

She knows.

She always knows.

I need 315
at the Broadmoor Hotel.

Fuck!

God, I know I asked you
to help Mike out before...

but he's really
getting his ass whupped.

Lord, give me a sign.

What the hell are you doing?
Mike!

Shit!

You okay?

I'm better than you gonna be
when Theresa see this car.

Armando...

Pass it! Pass it! Thattagirl!

Thattagirl, Callie!

Make them wanna play soccer!

- You're done, Mike.
- Yeah, I know.

No!

If she fouls you,
you foul her back!

- Yes!
- Yeah.

So there's this...
This Buddhist guy, right?

And, uh, you know,
mountain man, way up high,

going down
this long winding road.

And out of nowhere,
this other guy

is riding a horse
right toward him.

He's Buddhist too, I think.

Actually, I'm not sure.

Just let them
both be Buddhist, Cap.

Okay, fine.
So the guy on the horse

is riding toward our guy so fast

that our guy's gotta
get out of the way,

so as not to be trampled
by the horse.

And the guy gets up,
all dusty, and he goes:

"Hey, where the fuck
are you going?"

And our guy on the horse,
he says:

"I don't know!

Ask the horse!"

Ask the horse? Huh.

Exactly.

Yes! Yes!

See that face...? That. That?

That's it.

That was my face.

The horse represents

all of our fears and traumas.

And it's got us running around
a hundred miles an hour,

to the point where we can't
even answer a simple question.

"Where are you going?"

Where are you going, Mike?

No, Callie!

Don't pass!

Shooters shoot!

Kid's got the family curse.

Mike...

you gotta get control
of your life.

You gotta grab the reins

before your horse
runs you off a cliff.

Come over for dinner.
Callie would love to see you.

I'll read you a Buddhist story.
I got a book full of them.

Wait, you gonna be
cooking again?

- Hell, yeah.
- Ooh...

- All right. We'll order pizza.
- Yeah, I think I can do that.

Bingo.

- Cap!
- I don't know! Go, go, go!

Get him.

I can help. What does he need?

- Shoot.
- Cállate.

- Through the bitch.
- No, move.

- Get behind the car.
- I can help.

Move! Get behind the car!

What's wrong with you, man?

You had that shot.

No innocents.

You crazy, man, you know that?

Three-fifteen. Shots fired.
Officer down.

Jose Marti Park.

We need Air One on a three.

This is Detective Mike Lowrey.

The captain is down.

The captain is down.

Ready!

Aim! Fire!

Ready! Aim! Fire!

Ready! Aim! Fire!

You were right, man.

You said if I went out there,
I was gonna get somebody killed.

One last time?

One last time.

I ran a suspicious
financial report on Booker.

All his LLC fronts
have the same accountant.

Picante Jenkins, CPA.

Yep. You don't meet
too many Picantes.

So we just gonna do
a knock-and-talk?

Yeah.

Whoa! What the hell
is all that?

What you talking about?

Mike, you don't need
a grenade launcher.

Yeah, but I want one.

He's an accountant, Mike.

Look, Mike, we're not
going in there like that.

- Like what?
- Hey, look, all our lives,

we've been bad boys, all right?

Now it's time to be good men.

Who in the hell
wanna sing that song?

♪ Good men,
good men What you gonna do? ♪

Well, maybe if you sang the song

like you meant it,
it'd catch on.

Nah.

Knock and talk.

Yeah. Knock, knock.

- Mike! Mike!
- Miami PD! Get down!

- Mike! Mike!
- Get down!

- What is happening?
- Mike!

What happened to knock and talk?

Hey, you broke my door.
You broke my door!

Sir, sorry about
the door, okay?

A little Gorilla Glue
will make that just fine.

- Hey, where's your warrant?
- I need you on your knees

with your hands behind
your head right now!

Sir, if you keep moving, I'm
gonna shoot you in your face.

- No, he's not.
- Yes, I am!

Mike, the man is an accountant.
We just need to talk to him.

So you wanna have
a conversation

with a coked-out
orange mountain?

Here's the latest figures.

Look, let me handle this, okay?
Just back up.

I'm gonna penetrate
this man's soul with my heart.

What?

Yeah.

Watch and learn.

Hey! Hey, ass licker.

I'm gonna fast-food
fist-fuck you.

Sir, that's just nasty.

Now, I recognize that this
is a difficult situation.

- Don't come over here.
- Don't go over there, Marcus.

We just need
your client's receipts.

- What?
- Booker Grassie.

- Any record of...?
- Unh!

Mm.

Hey. How deep you think
you got in his soul?

Sometime you gotta suffer
for what is right.

Don't you turn
that other cheek.

- Get off me!
- All right.

Now, sir, I realize
that you're scared.

Hell, we all scared.
You know, sometimes fear just...

So, what you thinking?

I think you should
handle this one.

Yeah, me too.

Hey!

MLK just tapped out.
You got Brother Malcolm now.

We can handle this
by any means necessary.

I recognize you.
You're that cop that got shot.

Bad year you're having,
Butterscotch.

If you didn't have that gun
and badge, I'd fucking eat you.

This the only thing that's
keeping you from eating me?

- Yeah.
- Oh.

Bring it, big boy.

- Left line clear!
- Cuff him.

What the hell
are y'all doing here?

I called them.

What? What happened to bad boys
one last time?

This is one last time.

But this here's the remix, Mike.

We work with AMMO now.

That's that shit, okay?

You got three seconds
before I bite it off.

Get your damn finger
out my face.

So tell us.
Judge, prosecutor, criminal informant,

the captain, and you.
Who do you have in common?

Hundreds of investigations,
operations...

Eight hundred
and forty-seven cases

in the nexus of the victims.

Well, who up there
wants to kill you?

- Hell, who doesn't?
- All right.

That just the criminals
that we're looking at.

I don't trust a person
that don't wanna kill him.

- Hell, put my name up there.
- Thanks. Got it. Appreciate it.

What you get
out of the accountant?

- His records are a mess.
- Surprising.

But I did manage
to get into his Keychain.

- So?
- All of his social.

Boom.

Looking at a lot of dick pics

but not so many clues.

Facial rec for anyone
in our system.

On it.

That's three days
before I got hit.

Hey, go back to that last shot.
The chain.

Yeah, zoom in.

- Heh. Zway-Lo.
- Zway-Lo.

- Who's Zway-Lo?
- Lorenzo Rodriguez.

Goes by Zway-Lo.

Used to coach him
in peewee hoops

before he went
for that thug shit.

Great player, but I had to bench
him during the championship.

You benched a 10-year-old
in the championship?

Yeah. Little fucker
called me a dickhead.

- Did y'all win at least?
- Hell, no.

He was our star player.

We lost by 40,
but I made my point.

Okay, there's no "I" in "team."

There is one in "dickhead"
though.

Man, shut up. Look, Zway-Lo's
into drugs, weapons.

He's one
of Taglin's lieutenants.

Taglin was found dead
the same night Mike got shot.

I guess he's someone
else's lieutenant now.

Lorenzo Rodriguez.

No mortgage,
not even a bank account.

But it is his birthday tomorrow.

If he's celebrating, there's
three spots for a cat like that.

Ditto, Ice 45, Zillion.

Can you get into
their club records?

Pfft, Ice 45 should really up
their cyber security.

Okay. Ice 45.

Ditto. Zillion.

There. Rodriguez.

- Bam!
- The party's tonight.

Zillion it is.

All right,
we meet at the club at 2300,

UC, so wear your Sunday best.

This is a grab. We're in.
We're out. No bodies.

This raid is strictly nonlethal.

Nonlethal.

Has anyone informed
the bad guys?

ACLU rounds. Rubber.
Trust me, you'll enjoy them.

You get to shoot
as much as you want.

♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪

- Oh, hell, no.
- ♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do
When we come...? ♪

Hey, hey, hey! Uh-uh.

- No, uh-uh.
- No! No!

Never. Y'all will never
do that again.

Yeah, and you fucking up
the lyrics,

which take a long time to learn.

- Don't do that.
- All right.

- No. Don't do that.
- Seriously.

- Okay.
- Sorry, sorry.

- Shit.
- Won't happen again.

Get your own damn song.

You believe that shit?

Dumbass.

Whatever, man.

Miss me with that bullshit.

I got this.

Hello there, ladies.
Uh, Georgio in there tonight?

- No idea who that is, sir.
- The line's in the back.

Nicole! Paige!

- Hey!
- Oh!

- Hey!
- You guys look so good.

- Thank you.
- So beautiful. Oh, my God.

That's my Uncle Michael, and
that's his pal, Uncle Marcus.

You mind if they come in?
He just got divorced.

- Oh, that is so sad.
- Mm, yeah.

- Come on in. Come on in.
- Come on.

- Oh, hell, no.
- Come on, kids. Let's go.

- Uh, yeah.
- Oh, no.

- No, yeah.
- Uh-uh.

- It's real.
- No, not at all.

- Yeah.
- No, sir.

- Nuh-uh.
- Yeah.

- Uh-uh.
- Yeah.

Kelly, what's the target QTH?

Second level. VIP platform.

- I have eyes on.
- Up top.

Hi, baby.

Target confirmed.

Platform is one way
in, one way out.

We got him cornered.

Man on his two-side
has a 55, hot.

Stay with the A-plan.

Kelly, you're on
Zway-Lo's bodyguard.

Copy.

Mike,
how you think she DJ like that?

She must got some
strong ass muscles.

Look, I'm gonna be honest
with you, Mike.

- I ain't had sex in a long time.
- Whoa, whoa.

Yeah, too long. Too long.
I be thinking of shit.

- Crazy shit, Mike.
- Marcus.

I feel like
I'm locked up since...

Hey, Marcus, you know
they can hear you?

It's too loud. They can't
hear us. They can't hear us.

Look, look, sometime
I go to the Internet,

and I see some weird shit
on there.

- I saw a man put his...
- Marcus.

- Marcus.
- What?

We can hear you.

Oh! Oh! Ha, ha!

That's a little jokey joke.
Y'all didn't hear that, did you?

- In position.
- Setting up.

Mike, Marcus, meet you
at the top.

Mike and Marcus
moving, stairs right.

Rita on the move, stairs left.

- Everybody in position?
- Set.

- Set.
- Set.

That dress is incredible, girl.

- You got style.
- Oh, hi.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

Stand by. Stand by.
Stand by.

I can't.
I'm here with my girlfriends.

Mm, they can come too, baby.

Ah, I can't tonight.

Knee him in his balls,
and let's go.

- From Tétouan. Mwah.
- From Tétouan.

- Bye, baby. Ha, ha!
- Bye, baby.

Why'd she wear that?
That is not a undercover dress.

You should've wore
something... undercover.

Happy birthday.

Yo, yo, yo, everybody!

Let's make some noise!

We got a special guest
in the house! It's his birthday!

Let's wish him
a birthday on one!

Three, two, one.

Happy birthday!

We love you, Zway-Lo!

Hey! Yeah!

- Zway-Lo! Zway-Lo!
- Top of the world, baby!

- Zway-Lo! Zway-Lo!
- Happy birthday, dickhead.

- Yeah!
- Yeah!

- Yeah! Yeah!
- Yeah!

- Yeah!
- You going to jail, motherfucker.

When I say "criminal,"
you say "jail."

- Criminal.
- Jail.

- Criminal.
- Jail.

Miami PD! Freeze.

Damn!

I told you he was an athlete.

- We gotta jump.
- I'm not jumping.

- He's getting away! Jump now!
- Shit!

Zway-Lo!

Get out of the way!

- I need this. I need it.
- Hey, whoa!

- Excuse me, sir. Excuse me.
- What you doing?

- Hey, hold on!
- Official police business.

- That's my car!
- This is the police.

Back up!

- What the fuck?
- Come on!

It is of no advantage for me

to jump off the fucking thing
if you take the stairs!

I told your ass
I wasn't jumping!

Zway-Lo turned left on 2nd Ave.

- Shit! Whoa!
- Ugh!

- Putting your seat belt on?
- Yeah.

- That's how we do it now?
- You're damn right.

Number one's on my ass!

Crossing 395 into Overtown.

Whoa, Mike. Overtown's a no-go.

Zway got people here.
Dangerous people.

We're dangerous people.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Shit, whoa!

Damn Nerf gun,
rubber bullet bullshit.

They shooting slugs,
we firing gummy bears.

Mike, pull over for a minute.
I need to tell you something.

- Pull over?
- Yeah.

One second. Let me see
if Zway will pull over.

Zway-Lo! Marcus needs
to pull over for a second!

Hey, can we get a time-out?

Damn it, Mike, I need
to tell you something!

- What?
- I made a promise to God.

- To who?
- To God.

What the hell
are you talking about?

Look, I told the Lord
that if you made it through

that I would make
no more violence.

He definitely knew
you was bullshitting with that.

Violence is what we do.

It's about your soul, Mike.

Our job is to protect and serve.

You're damn right. I'm about
to serve this bitch right now.

- Oh, shit! What...?
- Oh, shit.

Oh, look at that!

- Damn!
- Oh!

That is some Elephant Man shit
right there.

- Yo, you see that?
- Oh!

- Yeah, I see it.
- Hey, stop it.

- It's calling me, Mike.
- What? Leave it...

I can't help it,
but it's calling me.

Stop it. What the hell
is wrong with you?

Just leave it alone.

Yo, leave it alone.

- Leave... Marcus.
- Ahh!

- You're gonna pop that shit!
- That shit nasty!

- Then leave it alone.
- Oh, shit. Oh!

- Damn.
- Oh...

Just leave it alone! Let's...

One more time.
One more again.

Overtown is waking up.
Let's go.

- AMMO, where you at?
- Got jammed up.

- Hitting Overtown now.
- Gear up.

Come on.

Fuck!

We got your man!

- Shit!
- I'll kill his ass!

Oh, shit!

Stop it! Wake up, Zway-Lo!

Wake up! Wake up!
Wake your ass up!

Coach Burnett?

Dickhead.

- Ahh!
- Still think I'm a dickhead?

Zway-Lo, who wants to kill me?

Shit, everybody wanna kill you.

Yeah, I told you, Mike.

What's he saying?

What's he saying?

- Y'all both dying tonight.
- Coming up.

Oh, shit.

Thank you, God!

Why'd you let him get away?!

Lay suppression fire!

- Oh, shit!
- Get in!

- There's a pit bull!
- Hey, come on!

Wanna get bit,
you wanna get shot?

- Whoa! Ahh!
- Come on! Let's go!

- Oh, shit.
- What you got?

It's like an angry white man's
basement in here.

- Shit, a fucking grenade.
- Pull it.

- Pull it!
- This ain't fucking Vietnam!

- Hang on to it, then.
- Damn you, Mike!

Oh, shit!

- Ahh!
- Come on, man! What else you got?

Ahh! Oh, yeah!

- Shoot that shit!
- No, no, Mike!

I made a promise
to God! No more violence.

Who do you think
sent you that weapon?

- I don't know!
- That is God's gun!

- It is?!
- Sent in your time of need.

Well, shit!
I do need it now!

Yes. You are a vessel
for the Lord's work.

- Yeah, I'm a vessel.
- Like David and Goliath.

- Yeah, David with the slingshot.
- Yes! That is your slingshot!

- Yeah!
- To smite thine enemies!

You know what?
Bad boys of the Bible, baby!

- Exactly! Amen? Amen?
- Amen! Amen!

- Shit!
- Where are your glasses?

- I don't need no damn glasses!
- You ain't hitting shit!

Oh! Oh, oh!

- Oh!
- Oh!

Let's go!

Shit! Oh!

- Get that ATV! I got the six!
- Oh!

Yes!

No!

Mike! Mike! Mike!
What the hell you doing?!

Oh! Lord, I don't wanna die
this way!

- Mike!
- Oh, shit!

- My bad, my bad.
- Damn right, that's your bad!

Oh, shit.

Oh!

Oh, shit!

Oh, shit! Ahh!

Mike! Mike!

- Ahh!
- Whoa!

Oh, oh!

Get out of the fucking way!

Haste el fuego.

Hey, Dorn. I need you.

Hey, hey, look.

I been there before. Many times.

It's gonna be all right.

That's Zway-Lo's phone.
Can you break it?

- Yeah. What am I looking for?
- Who he's talking to. Call logs.

And I'm gonna need you
to hurry up just a little bit.

Okay, but I'm gonna
have to go on the dark side.

All right. You good with that?

Yeah.

- Yeah.
- Yeah. Let's do it.

Dorn, he's a big guy.

How'd he get so good
at this stuff?

- What stuff?
- Tech shit.

- He looks like a killer.
- Is. Used to be a bouncer.

Guy one night was getting
physical with a woman...

Yeah, big man lost it.
Hit him.

- Bastard dropped dead.
- Avoided the fight ever since.

Here we go.

Give me the last two months.

Shit.

Mexico.

What are you after here?

All right. To each one
of those numbers,

I need you to text the phrase,
"Hasta el fuego."

Done.

All right. I got it. Thank you.

- You sure?
- I got it. Go.

We're shut down.

- What?
- What do you mean, shut down?

AMMO's done.

I'm sorry.

Look, everything's
gonna be all right.

Trust me on this, okay?

Everything's gonna be all right.

Mm-mm.

Mike.

You all right?

I think he's my son.

What?

Twenty-four years ago,
before we partnered up, um...

Captain Howard pulled me
right out of the academy.

Uh, nobody knew who I was.

He sent me in undercover
with the Aretas cartel.

Sorenson.

Weber.

Vargas. Carver.

All of the victims
were on that case.

This is revenge.

Yeah, Mike, but you
weren't on that case.

My name wasn't on it.

That's how deep I was.

I was Ricky Rollins.

Benito Aretas.

He's dead, Mike.
He ain't after you.

Not him.

His wife.

Isabel.

I was her driver.

We connected so... deep.

We talked about everything.
She showed me the whole game.

How to walk it, how to talk it,
put clothes on it.

She made Mike Lowrey.

- We fell in love.
- Heh.

Are you telling me
the one time that you...?

Isabel Aretas.

The one time.

Takedown was coming.
DEA, ATF, everybody.

And I was gonna ghost
the whole operation.

Me and Isabel were gonna
run away with each other.

What made you change your mind?

They call her La Bruja.

The Witch.

She is into some dark shit.

Santa Muerte.

That woman...

was a stone-cold killer.

So I had to put
the woman I love

behind bars
for the rest of her life.

Chose the badge, and I've been
choosing it ever since.

Mike, you fucked
a married witch?

So all the shit I just said,
and that was your takeaway?

No, it's just a lot to digest.

You think
you know somebody and...

Well, hell, now it explains why
you dress like a drug dealer.

So you wanna hear
this shit or you don't?

Sorry. But you don't know
that's your son, Mike.

You don't know
who that witch was fucking.

Benito Aretas
couldn't have kids.

Isabel gave birth in prison,
eight months after her arrest.

"Hasta el fuego."
He said that to me

before I jumped
from the chopper.

Me and Isabel made that up.

It's not even real Spanish.

It's some shit
we said to each other.

It meant like, "We'll be
together until we burn."

- Nah, Mike.
- Marcus, he's the right age.

He's crazy like me.
He's ruthless like me.

He's fearless like me.

He's the fucked-up me.

No, Mike.

You the fucked-up you.

You jumping to conclusions.
All right?

Shit's gonna work itself out.
You gotta trust that.

Yeah...

You're right.

Oh, man.

Aw.

I love you, man.

I love you, man.

- I gotta go. All right?
- Mike.

Mike.

Let me get past you there, sir.
Sorry there. Excuse me.

Excuse me.

That's the right spot
for me right there.

Oh, excuse me, sir.

Seat right there.

Let me get by you.
Watch your toes.

Watch your toes there.

It's all right. There you go.

No, Marcus.

I'm not letting you go

on a suicide mission
alone, Mike.

This is on me.

I'm not letting anybody else
get killed dealing with my shit.

Mike, she's a bruja.

She'll make your eyes melt
into your stupid-ass head.

She'll make your dick fall off.

I meant penis.

You should be minding
your own business anyway.

Marcus, please go home.

We fly together.
We die together.

- What?
- Oh, no.

That's just something we say.

It's all good. It ain't...

Oh, I can see how that
got y'all a little...

Uh, where y'all from?
Where you from?

So, what you gonna do
when you see him?

You really gonna
put your son behind bars?

No. I'm gonna kill him.

Kill him?

You really gonna kill
your own son, Mike?

I'm gonna put him
in a fucking bag.

- You mind if we switch seats?
- Yeah, please.

Excuse me.

You realize
you will go to hell?

- I don't believe in hell, Marcus.
- Well, it believes in you.

I mean, killing your own son.

Brother, that's a darkness
that swallows you whole.

Well, maybe I already
been swallowed.

I died, remember?

I'm ending this shit, man.

I should have known
he was your son.

Because the way
he whupped your ass, Mike.

That was a ass-whupping
straight from thy own loins.

A supernatural ass-whupping.

- Mm-mm.
- Well...

Mm-mm.

Can I be the godfather?

You know
what you can be, Marcus?

- What?
- Quiet.

- Oh, I should be quiet?
- Yeah.

All right, you just had
a warlock baby with La Bruja

who's trying to kill
your ass, probably mine too,

sucking our blood
and all of that shit,

but I should be quiet.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, Mike.

How you fuck a witch
without a condom?

You wrap that shit up, man.

Hey, my man.
We need to change seats.

Yep. Okay.

Mike y Marcus.

This makes us even
for Miami.

Yo, we hot.

- You called them again.
- Hey, Rita called me.

- What's up, fellas?
- Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hola.

I feel better when they're here.

Yeah, me too.

Whoa, where'd you get
all the toys?

DEA station in Cuernavaca.

We capture her,
they take the credit.

Get ourselves killed, they've
got nothing to do with it.

All eyes on me.

I'm the bait.
We meet at Hidalgo Palace.

It's an old hotel
outside the city.

I'll keep her talking
till you guys spot the shooter.

- What if she just shoots you?
- Nah, she's gonna wanna talk.

We, uh... have history.

Okay. Snatch and grab.
We get them,

and we're on a plane
to the States by dawn.

Dorn, get me a floor-plan
satellite image.

We'll have eyes
on the outside and...

on the inside.

Hey. Nobody touches the shooter.
He's mine.

Uh, yes, he is.

You, uh, coloring a little bit
outside the lines today, huh?

Don't die.

You make sure we both come home.

No identifiable threats.
Monitoring channels inside.

Jamming everything in case

they're running
countersurveillance.

No way she's here alone.

It's the cartel. She's gonna
have serious backup.

Marcus is moving
towards the back.

Marcus, we're covering
your position from the sky.

Still nothing.

Moving in closer.

Hola, Ricky.

Hola, Isabel.

I'm gonna kill her myself.

Keep it.

Where is he?

This is some
real telenovela shit.

Ah...

Shit!

I just lost all comms.

- Fuck. AMMO?
- Marcus, come in.

- Shit.
- They're jamming us.

They know we're here.
This is fucked.

- I can't get back in.
- Still got Baby Barry

on an outside frequency.

Mm.

It was gonna be a surprise.

After we ran away.

I'm seeing tactical movement.

Twenty to 30 threats
forming a perimeter.

We gotta go.

- Alt points of entry?
- Here.

That cold airflow could be
a laundry exhaust.

How could you do this
to our son?

My son.

Who does he think I am?

Exactly who you are:

The coward, the traitor...

Don't do this.

Keep it moving, detective.

You see that?

Drop it.

Let's go!

Let's go!

What you gonna do?

- Hasta el fuego.
- Whoa.

No "el suego."
That means fire, right?

- Cállate.
- No, no "cate."

You and this man need to talk.

- It's life-changing shit.
- Shut the fuck up.

- Easy on the barrel! Easy!
- Marcus, relax.

Mike, it's lack of communication
that got this shit fucked up.

He needs to tell you something.
You ain't gonna like it,

but you need to hear it.

Oh, shit!

Yo, Mike,
they're moving up to the chopper!

Marcus!

- Put your glasses on!
- What the hell was that?

That was a bad throw!

Yo, Mike, careful!

You were right
about the glasses.

I been telling your ass
that shit for years.

Shit, this is like HD!

Go! Go! Go!

Contact! Twelve o'clock!

Go! Go, go, go!

Hey, Isabel and the shooter
went up the stairs.

Can you cover us?

- Kelly! Flank right!
- Copy!

- Rafe, pan left! Push!
- Copy that!

- Dorn, follow Rafe!
- Yup!

Hey, big man.

I'm gonna need you
to hurt some people.

I'll pay for therapy,
all right?

I'm gonna need it. Seriously.

- Yeah, I got you.
- I'll hold the middle.

- You push hard for the stairs.
- Push hard for the stairs.

Yeah.

Hey. It's good shit, lieutenant.

You too, detective.

You ain't such a dumbass
after all.

On me!

Go!

Transition!

Go!

Shit.

- Shoot!
- Take them both!

Right there, right there!

Where the hell they getting
all these helicopters?

Mike!

- Take out the pilot!
- Take out the rotor!

- What are you aiming at?!
- The pilot!

Aim at the rotor!
If you shoot the pilot...

Got him!

Oh, shit!

Shit. You got
a fucked-up family, Mike.

The building's coming down!
We gotta move!

Mike! Marcus!

Shit.

On your knees, Isabel. Get down.

Mike!

Let that be a lesson
to your witch ass.

Armando...

you're my son.

You're my son.

I don't wanna fight.

Uh-uh.

Stay down.

I said, stay down.

I didn't know.

If I had known...

Mike, what are you doing?

I'm trying
to penetrate his soul...

with my heart.

No.

No, Mike, no.

I was going through something.

Who are you?

I told you.

Liar.

Last chance.

Who are you?

Ask your mother.

Hey, y'all see
all this fuego?

- Can we take this shit outside?
- Cállate.

- Tell him!
- Tell him, mama.

Is he my father?!

Yes.

Kill him.

- No, no, wait, wait, wait...
- Shit.

Lay down. Down. Down.

Oh, shit.

Mike, we gotta go.

Mike! Gotta move! Now!

Mike! We gotta go!

Hold me! Hold me!

Oh, shit!

Mike! Don't let me go!
Don't let me go! Oh, shit!

Hold on. I got you.

Mike! I can't get to you!

I can't hold on.

Oh! Oh!

Pull me up! Mike, I don't
wanna die this way!

Oh, Mike, I'm slipping.

Come on!

Hurry!
I can feel my ass cooking!

Come on.

Let's go! We gotta move!

Gunshot wound, upper chest!
We need medical!

- En route!
- All right.

- It's okay, I got it.
- Put him down.

- We need a trauma dressing.
- Right.

Relax.

I can't promise you
it's gonna be all good...

after all the stuff
you've done, but...

I can promise you
I'm gonna be there, all right?

Hey.

I'm your Uncle Marcus.

But we'll talk about that later.

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

- Whoa. Hey.
- Hey.

There we go.

- All right.
- Oh, my God.

- Wow.
- You guys.

- There it is.
- Yes. Now...

it's time to raise
your glasses...

- to our new captain.
- To our new captain.

Hey, my mom says hey.

Oh, you're not gonna let me
live that down.

Oh, and, guys, I got
some news for you.

I just started therapy.

My therapist thought
it'd be beneficial

if maybe we could hit up
a group sesh together.

- It's super sick.
- Oh, for sure.

- Definitely.
- Yeah, we will be there.

- Marcus, let me holler at you.
- Yeah.

Uh, let me think about it.

- He want us to go to therapy.
- Yeah, I'm not going.

Ha, I'm not going.

Hey, man, look, um...

We don't say this kind of shit
to each other, man, but just...

thank you.

Mike, you don't
have to thank me.

If you wanna retire,

just know that I am not
gonna try to stop you.

You earned it.

And I will support you 100,

no matter what.

- But you're forgetting one thing.
- Hm?

- We said for life.
- For life, baby.

- There's my nephew.
- Yes.

- Hey.
- Little Marcus just woke up.

Okay, first things first.

Little surprise for you.

Three days at
the Marion Springs Resort.

You know, kind of
a little apology

for the spa day I crashed.

Yes, a little
quality time, baby.

- Quality time.
- Yeah, baby,

but Megan and Reggie
are on their honeymoon.

Oh, I got the baby this weekend.

Me and my AMMO squad.

You and Theresa go ahead,
have fun.

You still got
them blue pills, right?

I don't need
no damn blue pills.

That's what you said
about your glasses.

That baby looks good
on you, Mike.

You do look good holding
a baby, Mike.

- Yeah, you think?
- I do.

You good, Mike? Let's go, team.

- Yep.
- Wait, nothing...

Wait, no. We said we were
doing this together.

Oh, no, I have to work.

I'll check on you tomorrow.

- I'll bring wine.
- Rita, stop playing. Hey, no.

Y'all all agreed that we were
all gonna stay with the baby.

Marcus,
I'll be in the car.

- Just text my mom.
- Oh, okay, that's not fun... No.

Okay. All right, all right. Shh.

Hey.
♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do
When we come for you? ♪

No. No, we not doing that
with the next generation.

- You gotta sing it right, man.
- All right.

♪ Bad boys, bad boys ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do? ♪

♪ Whatcha gonna do
When we come for you? ♪

I'm gone.

How you doing?

I'm paying my debt.

It's a big one.

Opportunity may have
presented itself

for you to pay down
some of that debt.

You interested?

Yeah, man.

Would you fuck a witch
without a condom?

I would not.

He would not, Mike.

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