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No, we're almost done.

Final sequence initiated.

Okay.

Echo Five Sierra November 273.

Alpha Delta 1964

Whiskey Three Foxtrot Two India.

- Yes, that's right. - Okay, three days.

This is a bad idea. You know what they're capable of.

- My brother. - Not my fault.

- They know where you are. - I cover my tracks.

Execute.

Yeah.

It's a fine art, and I'm really good at it.

Of course I'm talking about birding.

It's peaceful.

Look, I need you to understand.

Actions speak louder than words.

Yeah, okay, say what you want.

It's what you do.

No. Look, I never said I wouldn't, but I need you...

Hello?

Hello? Hey, are you there? Can you hear me?

Middle of frigging nowhere.

Hello?

Can I help you?

Yeah. Sorry, I'm just having a little bit of car trouble.

My car stalled and won't even turn over.

Why are you here?

Uh, my car stalled.

What I mean is, no one lives around here.

What, you visiting someone?

Birding.

Birding?

You like birds?

Well, I'm a photographer, freelance.

You know, pays the bills, kind of love it, but not really.

- What kind of birds? - The colorful kind.

Your cell?

Yeah, I mean, I had reception and then I didn't.

You know, comes and goes. So, I just thought that you might have something more stable.

No.

No? Okay. Um, well,

Do you mind if I step inside for a minute and just use your charger?

Because the guys who sold me this phone are total liars.

They told me that I would have reception anywhere I go

with a 12-hour battery, new technology and all that,

total BS when I looked it up.

And then they told me I had the wrong model

and not the newest model.

They told me a hundred lies to cover up the first.

So, 12-hour battery my ass.

It's more like two.

You got a charger, right?

- I don't own a cellphone. - Oh.

Okay. Well, I would kind of go somewhere else, but you're the only game in town.

What game?

It's just an expression.

Never heard of it.

Okay, great. Well, I don't know, maybe you have a neighbor?

I'm going to hitchhike or walk around.

I'll figure it out.

Okay, wait.

No, it's fine, come on.

Sit. Um...

Do you, uh, you want a cup of coffee?

I have instant.

Sure, why not?

I'm Riad.

Taylor.

You, uh, expecting a storm?

Wow, there really is nothing out here, is there?

- It's Oregon. - Sure is.

Hey, you don't know anything about cars, do you?

- Not really. - Shit, that sucks.

Why don't you try your phone?

Yeah.

No service, no charger, no cell.

You got a landline?

Shit, this really is my day.

So what do you do?

- What's it to you? - Just making conversation.

Anyone else live around these parts? Then I can get out of your hair.

Just me.

Well, if you have an hour, maybe you can,

uh, drive me into town?

I could pay you.

- I don't need your money. - Any other suggestions?

I'll be picking up mail in town this afternoon.

I'll drive you in. Someone can help you there.

- This afternoon? - Two hours.

Can't leave any earlier.

Okay.

Well, thank you, and sorry for the inconvenience.

Yeah, it's bad timing.

Yeah.

That looks disgusting.

Simple never goes bad.

You got TV?

Great.

Or you could continue with your birding.

What are you out here looking for?

Pretty birds.

Maybe a pine grosbeak?

Yeah, I know those.

They have blue feathers, yellow beak.

Not even close. They have...

red and orange feathers on the head

and a black beak.

Like this.

Yeah, I've seen those.

What about a kingbird?

No Western kingbirds in these parts.

Yeah, I like birds.

They're interesting, you know.

I see so many out here.

Much more predictable than people.

My favorite is, um, I just read about it, uh, a killbird,

kill something or other.

It, uh, it uses a wounded wing act

to distract predators from its nest.

It plods along the ground holding its wing,

a bird in distress, shrieking in pain.

Predators go in for an easy kill,

but before it knows what's what,

killbird's suddenly all better and flies away.

Tricky.

It's called a killdeer, I think.

Killdeer?

Strange name for a bird.

Yeah.

Cuckoos are my fave.

They're the worst though.

Brooding parasites that lay their eggs

in another bird's nest, usually a poor magpie,

then they get that bird to raise its young.

Some don't even know it until it's too late,

but if the mama bird's smart,

she'll toss the eggs out of the nest,

and then the cuckoo goes on attack, destroys the nest,

the eggs, everything, until the poor little magpie

just gives up and raises its cuckoo bastards.

It's kind of like a bird that works for the mob.

You know your birds.

Stay here.

Anything interesting?

No.

Not really.

So, birding, this like a real job?

Yeah, sort of. It's part-time.

You sell your pictures?

Oh, we try to. It's mostly a hobby.

- What else do you do? - Temp work.

- Temp? - Yeah, you know, secretary,

- domestic services, things like that. - Hmm.

What happens when you quit school, but hey,

my husband makes enough, so whatever.

I just figure I got to do something or I'll lose my mind.

Why don't you go back to school?

You're getting really personal here.

Just want to make sure you're not a crazy person.

Is that why you're asking all the questions?

It's not normal to be out here.

Well, it's not normal to be

living out here.

I got tired of the big city.

I was studying psychology, but I'm no psychiatrist,

and it took me too long to figure that out.

My husband Doug is though.

I was probably infatuated with him.

You know, he's really good at listening to other people's problems

and ignoring everything else in his life, including me.

I guess I'm just something else though.

Like?

Like, I'm creative.

You know? What do you do?

I do nothing.

Well, you're a little young to be retired.

- Taking a vacation. - From what?

Doesn't matter.

Okay.

Well hey, look, um, my car isn't far.

Maybe you've got jumper cables.

- Uh... - You got to have those, right?

No, I already told you.

That you're not a mechanic, I know.

I just thought guys would be good with their

- cars and tools and stuff. - Not me.

Okay.

Okay.

I read birders make good spies.

Are you saying I should become a spy?

Just something I read.

Here, come on, I'll show you.

Sorge, Duchesne, Hari, they're all birders,

to one degree or another.

Hmm. Never heard of them.

Yeah, spies fascinate me.

Sorge, he infiltrated Japan in World War Two,

posing as a journalist.

He uncovered that Japan had no intention

of invading the USSR.

Without that intel, it's entirely possible

Germany would've taken the Russians.

Had they beat the Russians, Germany would've taken the war.

- Huh. - He was eventually captured and hanged.

You don't seem to care.

World War Two.

History's rich with hidden stories.

- It sure seems that way. - But none beat the women

when it comes to the game of espionage.

I didn't know that women were spies or the best.

You learn something new every day.

Like, to this day we're not really sure

which side Mata Hari was on.

- Oh, come on, you know. - Sorry, I...

One of the, the most infamous spies of World War One.

I know the Iraq War.

That's just not a, it's not a war.

Okay, well, don't tell my cousin that, 'cause he did two tours.

It was barely a conflict, never mind a war.

Okay, it wasn't a war.

Was she German?

- Who? - Mata Hari.

Dutch.

She, she fell in love with a French officer

who needed an eye operation

and went undercover as a French spy to pay for it.

Of course, the officer hooks up with another girl,

so she decides to make a life of spying.

- Hmm. - She pretends to be a double agent to the Germans,

but actually works for the French.

In the end no one really knew who she was working for,

so they, uh, they executed her.

Shit.

Sucks to be her.

Yeah, I guess it does.

So why would I want to be a spy then?

I mean, I'd rather stick to birds.

Real spies get captured,

poisoned, tortured, executed.

Screw that, man. I'd rather be alive.

- That right? - Well, yeah.

Death kind of sucks.

I guess it does.

Um...

So is that what you're doing up here?

Spying?

What would make you say that?

I don't know, you just seem to know a lot about spies.

- Maybe you're spying. - On what?

I don't know. Whatever's out here, the bears?

No bears out here.

Like I said, I'm taking a vacation.

This is the perfect place for that. No one to bother you up here.

Well, except for the occasional birder.

Sorry.

Shit happens.

Sure does.

So, did she get a stamp for all her troubles?

Mata Hari? Uh...

no.

You know that the post office is super weird with their stamps, right?

It'd be pretty weird for a spy to get one.

Birds get stamps.

Yeah, and they don't even have to die for their country.

- Well, neither do spies. - What do spies die for then?

Their ego.

That is funny.

Can you imagine a narcissistic spy,

self-involved guy looking at himself in the mirror

and getting stabbed in the back?

Ego and money, it's never about patriotism.

You sure know your shit about this.

Why do you care?

Big business and the CIA control the government,

and so long as they do, we have no real government, just debt.

A whole lot of debt.

Yeah, sure do.

I mean, I have debt.

Maybe I can just call up the CIA

and have them wire me some money,

because they're in control.

You think I'm nuts?

No.

Be honest.

Look, is there a lot

of fucked up shit going on in the world?

Hell yes.

And I'm not a computer hacker.

I don't know how to download

or any of that kind of stuff.

But they've got millions of dollars. They've got lawyers, courts.

They can bribe whoever they want, the whole shebang.

And my husband is totally into this shit, but frankly,

I'll just stick to birds.

You're making fun of me.

I'm just playing. I mean, what are you going to do?

Are you going to tear it all down from your cabin in the woods here?

All it takes is one person.

For what?

Change.

Sure does.

Car breaks down and your whole day changes.

Am I keeping you from something?

No, nothing that can't wait.

- Oh, shit. - Are you expecting someone?

What do you think?

Feeling better?

Must've been a bird.

Missed opportunity.

Could've been a good one.

You have alarms on your property, it's a bit intense, no?

- Keep out the bad guys. - Here?

- What's the problem? - No problem. I just figure

if I was a burglar I wouldn't want to come all the way out here.

All it takes is one crazy.

Yeah, no kidding.

What are you writing down?

Alarm logs.

- What's your name? - Taylor.

- Taylor what? - Crane.

- Birthday? - November 9th.

You know, this is some fucked up shit. Are you going to steal my identity or something?

I just like to know who I'm dealing with.

You really are nuts. Well, at least do my horoscope,

- give me my money's worth. - Yeah, astrology's a lie.

The earth has a wobble along its axis

that changed the elliptical equator over the last 3,000 years.

Now every Cancer's a Gemini, every Gemini's a Taurus.

Wow. You know, I totally am into this mystical stuff,

you know, tarot cards.

In theory, palm reading is considered much more accurate.

The palm is a fossilized record of a person's development.

Do it.

I'd rather not.

Come on.

What do you see?

You're strong-willed, vital.

What else do you see? I love this shit.

What do you want to know?

Um, am I going to have kids?

Probably not. Your love line indicates you're aloof and prone to affairs.

Affairs?

So am I going to stay with my husband?

Unlikely.

So, have you ever been wrong?

Sure, all the time. It's complete bullshit most of the time.

So I could have kids?

- Yeah. - And I could live out the days with my husband?

Mm-hmm.

Why bother if it's just lies?

Exactly.

Huh. Your wife?

Dog.

Do you keep him upstairs?

- Why not? - I mean, wouldn't he want to be down here

- or out in the yard? - He's a lazy dog.

He usually sleeps.

He likes the quiet.

He told you that?

What's it to you?

I just know that my dog would go crazy, loves running around all over the place.

And I know I wouldn't want to be cooped up like that.

He has water, food.

You're not thinking about reporting me to some animal shelter?

- No, no, no, it's fine. - I wouldn't want that.

- None of my business. - That's right. It's just, uh,

it's none of your business,

but you do ask a lot of questions.

Yeah, well I'm just made that way.

My husband complains about it all the time,

and there's nothing I can do about it.

Your husband, the, the lawyer?

- Psychiatrist. - Right.

What was his name?

And you think I ask a lot of questions?

Dave.

What? Dave what?

Ellis.

- When was he born? - This is weird.

Just tell me.

- December 8th, why? - Year?

Are you okay?

- What year? - '81.

- Anniversary? - Are you serious?

- Do you want me to drive you into town? - Okay, fine,

if that's how we're going to play it.

Married or first day we met?

Both.

May 8th, September 15th.

- Married in May? - September.

I know, who gets married in September, right?

But, hey, we did, 'cause you know, fuck it.

- Fuck it. - It was also cheaper.

Check that window, will you?

He shouldn't be here. I pick up my mail.

Wait here.

Holy shit.

Oh, fuck.

Hey.

What are you doing?

I was just looking for the bathroom.

Hmm.

Yeah, it's not in there.

I figured. My mistake. I just really need to go.

It's outside.

Okay.

I didn't recognize the delivery man.

A lot of changes today.

What's in the box?

Question of the day.

Western meadowlark.

Actually, wild birds are far less fascinating

than domesticated birds.

How so?

Well, um, well, take a chicken.

A dumb animal by any standard.

- I suppose. - But, uh, chickens have a pecking order,

a literal pecking order.

And if a, if a chicken doesn't respect the hierarchy,

a higher status chicken will peck at it, peck and peck,

tearing skin and drawing blood.

Under duress, other chickens join in,

pecking the disrespectful bird to death.

The point is, it's beneficial to know your place.

Hello?

Who are you?

- What? - You heard me.

Who are you?

Why are you doing this?

Who are you?

Please, please don't hurt me, please.

- Stop with the games. - I don't understand.

- Are you a spook? - Like for the government?

- Stop! - I don't know what you're talking about!

What's in the box?

You sent it. What's inside?

I didn't send anything. I didn't know I was

- going to be here! - Lies!

Please. I didn't see anything, okay?

Please don't hurt me.

I won't tell anyone anything.

Anything about what?

I don't know, I don't know. I just... My car broke down and I just needed help.

Please, I don't want to be here anymore.

- Just quit the act. - I don't understand.

- How'd you find me, huh? - I don't even know who you are.

- Satellite? Facial recognition? - I don't know what...

- Is that shit even real? - How did you track me?

I don't know.

- This is not going to end well! - Please!

I'm not who you think I am!

No, please!

Open it.

Now!

It's a geometry set.

What?

What the fuck?

This your way of poking my nose in it?

- No. - Who sent you?

It's just a coincidence, okay?

It's just bad fucking timing.

- Compass and a T-square? - Your intel is bad.

Masons were involved at the start, but it's gone way beyond that now!

- My husband knows where I am. - What, your psychiatrist husband

who barely has time for you? He knows you're birding in the middle of nowhere?

- Liar! - No, it's for a magazine!

It was a small commission. It just helped me relax.

I should've tried like CBD

or fucking sleeping pills or meditation!

You're playing with me. You're fucking with my head.

No, no, I'm not playing with you. Please just let me go.

Please.

Tell me again about your husband.

What does he think of you?

He thinks I'm always changing my mind,

I can't finish anything that I started,

that he would rather have me out of the house

doing shit like this, like photographing birds,

than being there with him.

Have you ever been with anyone

who doesn't even acknowledge your existence?

You love him?

Why do you care?

Yeah.

Yeah, I love him, and he loves his work.

Do you have kids?

What's the problem?

Are you going to let me go?

Haven't decided yet.

Someone must love you.

Are you married? Would they want you doing this kind of shit?

- Don't ask me questions! - You think I'm a threat?

- Me? - You're secret police, NSA, CIA, FBI!

You're fucking nuts, man!

And why would those people give a shit about what you're doing

out in the middle of bumble-fuck nowhere?

Because of what I took.

Oh, my god.

That's a bomb.

That's what you're fucking doing.

It's not what you think. I'm not a psycho.

No, no, no, you're one of those fucking converts.

You're fucking ISIS!

Holy shit. You're going to fucking videotape me

and then cut off my fucking head!

Don't be so dramatic.

What would be the point in killing you?

We're on the same page then.

You asked about the device. That was smart.

What? Why?

Because it's not why you're here.

What do you know about Catalyst?

It sounds like a fucking video game!

Fuck you!

You know.

- You saw the files. - I didn't see anything.

It just looked like a bunch of encoding shit

and fucking newspaper clippings on your wall.

You're good.

You're real good.

They must know I'm getting close, huh?

Only a few missing pieces.

Communication channels, the organizations involved,

and the one thing I could never figure out, what happened to the passengers?

- What passengers? - What did you do with them?

I didn't do anything to anybody.

Three planes traveling at a low altitude,

hitting the towers, defying every law of physics,

leaving a roadrunner imprint and then melting the fucking buildings

in not one but three perfect demolitions?

All this allegedly done in almost perfect synchronicity

by guys who had two months of flying lessons.

Huh? It was a coordinated effort,

a terrorist plot that was given a little push.

It was never about the Iraq War.

Catalyst could only be set in motion

once everyone was scared out of their fucking minds.

Edward Snowden, he was aware of the surveillance, but he didn't have access

to the redacted files prior to Prism.

Once the towers came down, so did privacy.

X-Keyscore compromised emails.

Fascia compromised location data.

Dishfire compromised text messages.

A few Freemasons responsible who infiltrated the NSA

and helped kickstart the whole damn thing.

Do you fucking watch Loose Change on repeat or something?

- Is that what this is? - You're good.

Fucking let me go.

I can't believe this is happening.

If you know anything, you'd know I was a frog man.

I don't know anything about you.

You know, I was dishonorably discharged

and then recruited.

I'm sorry.

I don't keep up with the news.

It was a national story.

A few powerful white men decided to scapegoat a brown guy

for a military fuck-up, and now my brother's in jail.

I am sorry.

- Yeah. - That's horrible.

I don't need your false sympathy.

You probably signed the order.

- What order? - You'll break, like the other spook.

If you're lying, I'll know soon enough.

Stay here, I'll be back.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait! Where are you going?

Wait, don't fucking leave me here!

I'm not a fucking agent!

Fuck! Fuck!

Oh, yes.

Oh, shit.

Holy shit.

- You're not Riad. - Yeah, no shit.

Who the fuck are you?

Hey, look, we have to get the hell out of here right now.

Okay, where is the key to this thing? How do you get out of here?

No, no, no, no.

It's not safe out there.

And it's safe in here?

Like, why are you making so much noise?

I'm hungry.

Shh.

They want to kill me.

I go out there, I have to disappear.

Why would anyone want to kill you, huh?

You know.

No, no! Please!

It's dead. It's dead.

No!

No, no, no, no, no!

No!

No! No!

No!

Like déjà vu.

I had to take you with me.

What did you inject me with?

A short-acting barbiturate.

Better than a polygraph.

Got a connection in town.

Maybe that's the same guy that sent you the package.

It broke the other spook.

Sang like a bird.

You mean the guy upstairs?

That guy's no spy.

What did you do to him?

What I'm going to do to you until you tell me the truth.

Are you going to kill me?

I haven't decided yet.

Fuck!

Oh, I'm going to be sick.

Who are you?

Fuck you. I already told you.

Who are you?

You are very serious.

There's so many me's, I don't even know where to start.

Start with your name.

- Taylor. - Taylor what?

Taylor Crane.

I'm 31, I'm a Scorpio,

and I'm soon to be single if my husband

doesn't get his shit together.

Describe the circumstances that led to you being here.

- This is a strange way to talk. - Do it.

Well, this wild birdy told me to come up here and say cheese.

It's not a joke. How'd you end up at this cabin?

I already told you.

Tell me again.

Well, while I was birding,

my car broke down in the middle of fucking nowhere,

'cause that's what cars do, right? Murphy's law.

I mean, who the fuck is Murphy anyway?

Focus.

I, I bet you know who he is,

and you just don't want to tell me.

Murphy's Law originated with an aerospace engineer.

His name was Edward Murphy.

Your car stalled.

How did you end up in these parts?

I was just bored.

I mean, it was either taking up birding

or taking up a lover.

Maybe I should be taking up both.

- So you're just killing time? - Yeah, you know.

Soul-searching, reading self-help books,

all that kind of stuff. I mean, hey, look what good it's done me.

I'm up here in a cabin with a fucking Unabomber.

- There's more to that story. - Oh, I'm sure there is, yeah.

He had bad parents, boo-hoo,

but that doesn't give you a reason to kill people.

Ted Kaczynski was a brilliant student

until the CIA got their hands on him at Harvard.

You must know something about that.

Actually, you know what? I don't.

Why don't you invite your friend Ted up here

and then he can tell me all about it.

They subjected him to a series of degrading and humiliating experiments,

destroyed him, tried to mind control a brilliant student.

The teacher would humiliate him in class until he couldn't function anymore.

He disappeared. Then he started killing off the Feds

and spooks in charge of the MK Ultra experiments.

You never hear about how Harvard and the CIA fucked them.

You only hear about some guy

who randomly decided to bomb assholes in suits.

- Not accurate. - Great, that's great news.

Totally relevant to my current situation, and I also don't give a fuck.

- Do you work for the CIA? - No.

Do you work for the police or the FBI?

No. I am not a cop and I'm not an FBI agent.

- Are you? - I'm asking the questions.

Are you a terrorist?

That why you're up here hiding like a snake?

Watch it.

Okay.

You want the truth?

Here's what I think. I think you should get a fucking life,

because nobody lives out here in the woods

unless you're a terrorist or a crazy person

or you're a lumberjack and you don't have the hands.

Hmm.

Okay, the truth is that I also like

selling the pictures I take of birds

because it gets me out of the house,

and when I'm out of the house I meet interesting men,

and when I meet interesting men...

it's just, you know, hasn't been the same with my husband

and I just...

I just want to get laid.

I know. I know it's so cliché, but I just,

I just want to get fucked, man, like,

I haven't been touched in months, you know,

and when I am, it's just business.

You got to relate living up here, right?

- I don't, I don't like to... - And it's like...

- ...talk about that. - You know when you're just craving food,

and all you think about is food and what you want to eat?

That's the same with sex. It's like you just want to fuck,

and it's on your mind all the time.

You just got all these fantasies,

and then, I just...

I masturbate... a lot.

- Good for you. - No, it's not good for me.

Okay, I don't like it, and it feels like I'm cheating all the time,

and I don't want to feel like a rug,

but it's just... it's just not the same.

- We used to fuck all the time. - Okay, okay, enough.

Why, what's the matter?

I'm not your marriage counselor.

But I'm sure you can relate. I mean, you must get a lot of action up here

living out in butt-fuck nowhere.

If you weren't crazy, I'd fuck you.

I'm not crazy.

I'm not going to fuck you.

It's really good with strangers.

Save it for one of your interesting men.

Hey, you asked.

That's why I like birding.

I'm thirsty.

Your friend broke within minutes.

- What friend? - The spook upstairs.

I don't know that guy. I've never seen him in my life.

Hey, and if you don't believe me, why don't you inject me

with some more of this stuff and I'll prove it.

Even if you are who you say you are, you could still go to the police.

No, I won't. I won't, I promise.

How am I supposed to believe you?

Because I don't care what you're doing up here or what you've done.

- I've done nothing. - I don't want to know, and I don't care.

Get up.

What?

Come on.

Where are you taking me?

Where I know you can't escape.

I've got something to do.

Sorry.

You again.

Come on.

You got to help me get out of here.

Don't bother.

What is your problem?

- Huh? - My problem?

No, no, no. We've been betrayed.

We? No, okay.

I'm just trying to get back to civilization.

- No, you work for them. - Oh, Jesus Christ.

How many times do I have to say it?

I didn't obey my orders, and now I'm on a kill list.

Orders? What orders?

Kill Riad, obtain the files, encryption key, you know.

Okay, great. Well, look, if we get out of here,

then you can go do whatever you want, okay?

No. He showed me the package...

and now... we're on a countdown.

Countdown, what? Is something going to happen?

He decrypted the majority of the files.

No, no, no, no, no, no. That shit isn't real, okay?

Ah, it is.

I've seen it.

The public deserves to know, but it doesn't matter

'cause they're just going to kill us both

and scrub the cabin.

Oh.

Oh, no.

I said don't bother.

Stay away from there. Don't look in there.

What the fuck?

What's going on?

Get back.

I just pushed him.

- You killed him. - He tried to kill me.

- He was an asset. - What was he doing in a cell then, huh?

He liked it.

Where else do you want me to keep a spook who was sent here to neutralize me?

Jesus Christ!

Jesus, what the fuck are you?

Where's the key card? Toss it over.

Toss it over, now!

- You're dangerous. - It was an accident!

No, please! Please don't leave me in here with him!

He had the opportunity to leave and chose to remain!

Maybe you'll feel the same!

No.

Fuck you, you fucking asshole!

Hey!

Hey!

At least bring me some fucking water!

Fuck.

Fuck!

What the fuck? Stay back! Stay the fuck back!

Shut up, shut up! Listen to me here, okay?

You're being hunted. Listen, there's a mailman,

but he's not really a mailman, okay?

He has a gun and he's coming to kill you,

and if he kills you, he kills me too.

Inside!

- Are you fucking kidding? - Can't leave yet.

I'm not getting back in that house.

We've got to go right now, okay? Who is that guy?

Your backup. Move.

My car is right over there, okay?

Don't!

This isn't a negotiation.

You're surprisingly resourceful for a photographer.

Another one of your tricks, I'm sure.

Yeah, or maybe the mailman teamed up with his buddies,

the cable guy, the plumber, the electrician.

Down. Get down!

Don't move.

Fuck. Is this you?

Of course not.

We are going to have to make a run for it.

We? Are you ever just going to let me go?

- Come on. - What are you hiding from anyway?

Hiding? I'm dead.

You don't look dead to me.

No, I was a Marine who went crazy

and then committed suicide.

At least that's the story.

It made sense too.

After all, my brother was a traitor.

It's enough to drive a man insane, right?

Does your family know?

No, no family.

I was working for the NSA when they destroyed my brother.

My parents are dead. They're going to kill me for real this time

over these damn files.

What are they?

This is Catalyst.

It's a record of domestic black ops

designed to heighten fear and subjugate rational thought

among the general population, starting with 9/11.

Dozens of successful attacks,

San Bernardino, Boston Marathon.

Why would they do that?

Fear equals funding.

A little push creates the opportunity,

and a no-fly list up-and-comer takes the bull by the horns.

There's no way.

Shh! No, wait!

You'll make too much noise, he'll know we're in here, you fucking lunatic!

- Open the door. - Go away!

You think this is a coincidence?

Then why this? Just leave the crazy guy alone, right?

Well, you did kidnap a guy and hold him hostage,

and you stole government files for the sole purpose to leak them,

so I can think of a few fucking reasons.

This is your fault. You revealed my position.

Oh, yeah, and then I told them to kill me. Great plan.

- I think you're missing the point! - There is no point, okay?

There's no reason for this bullshit.

The only way to subjugate rational thought

is fucking Facebook, 24-hour news, and reality TV, okay?

No need for hiding in a cabin and covert NSA conspiracy bullshit.

- Shut up! - No.

Look, why go down that rabbit hole?

Okay, it's a dark and lonely place,

and the bad guys will lose.

You're naive, and we're both going to die.

It's guys like you that are the problem.

You think that you can go against the system,

but the system has its checks and its balances.

You actually believe that?

- Drop the gun, Riad. - Why would I do that?

Miss Crane, please take his weapon.

How do you know my name?

This is your failed operation.

No. No, no, no, no, no, that's a lie.

- Fuck you. - That's a lie. Look, you have to believe me.

- Stay there. - No, please.

- Please, please, please, please. - Wait, stop, don't...

Look, I have nothing to do with this, okay?

Fuck.

Listen!

Get off her, get off! Get over there!

Don't move.

Miss Crane, the gun, please.

The gun, please.

Air-gapped computer.

Miss Crane, is that everything?

Is that everything?

As far as I know.

Get up.

Move.

Move!

Over there, by the chair.

What are you going to do?

Sit.

Put these on him.

Tight.

Now yours.

Over there, Miss Crane.

Sit.

Tight.

Your plan is faulty. I'm already dead.

That's easy enough to explain.

Terrorist faking his own death...

and only now regretting his actions.

The guilt over killing an innocent woman.

You have a role to play as well, Miss Crane.

Get up.

I said get up.

Stand up!

Status check, code four, ready to deploy.

We're good. Stay put.

Do you want me to draw this out?

No.

Get up. Get up!

Status check. Agent, please respond.

Please respond.

Agent unresponsive.

Deploy to engage target.

Huh, kind of embarrassing.

Who do you work for, NSA?

We'll find you.

Oh, shit!

Who are you? Huh?

- Who are you? - You're a dead man.

Yeah, probably.

What is the fucking password?

You don't look so good.

Backup's on the way.

I thought you were going to bleed out up there.

Stabbing me with a compass was elegant.

- My HQ will enjoy that one. - Yeah, didn't stab you hard enough.

Where's the flash drive?

You're acting like all this bullshit is real.

- He's a total nut job. - On your knees.

Hands behind your back.

Why the package, huh? That was dumb.

To send you a message.

- You had no business interfering. - Orders.

Here's not your jurisdiction.

- Hand over the drive. - Convoluted idiocy.

- Vetted and approved. - Oh, bullshit!

You were sloppy.

That's it?

Doesn't matter.

You're a hostage!

Hey, I saved your life, you saved mine. How about we're even, okay?

If you're so innocent, the authorities will probably want to keep you alive.

Yeah, well, clearly I'm expendable.

The postman was going to shoot my head off.

- Where is it? - Where's what?

The flash drive, what do you think? Did you take it?

No.

Okay, time to leave.

- I rigged the cabin to blow. - What?

We'll take your car.

How about we just go our separate ways, okay?

Just drive! Get in!

Okay, okay.

This is really bad.

Multiple covert actions failing to take out a single target.

- Pretty pathetic, actually. - Holy shit, you're bleeding.

I'll manage.

Holy shit.

- What was that? - C-4 packs a punch.

The explosion will distract them, but they'll find us eventually.

- I have a new location in mind. - So it was a bomb.

Well, there's bombs and there's bombs.

No more helicopters.

I thought we discontinued this line.

Ricochet, there's been a problem.

We need to reinitiate.

- I can't. - Contingency protocol, secondary location.

Not possible. Getting the files will be tough this time around.

No! This is for Ahmed. You promised.

- You owe him everything! - It's a terrible setback.

I'll contact you in six hours with new instructions.

I can't believe you have a fucking phone, you asshole.

It's a SAT phone on an encrypted line, not for car repairs.

You're something else, you know that?

Who is that guy, your friend, Ricochet?

He's assistant to the deputy director.

- Of what? - NSA.

Bullshit. Why would he help you?

He served with Ahmed. Ahmed saved his life.

They were best friends.

I don't believe you.

You need to realize how serious this situation is.

It goes back to 9/11, the World Trade bullion reserves.

- Of course it does. - Would you stop?

200 billion dollars in gold evaporated.

That was the funding for every damn program.

It was the world's greatest extortion and heist

all rolled into one.

- So this is about gold? - No. It's about power, lost power.

The gold was leveraged,

deposited into foreign bank accounts.

The bank accounts were leveraged to create the covert ops,

the covert ops create the fear,

and the fear redistributes power.

And the American citizens are the complacent sheep

that let it all happen.

Always bet on the guy with the gold.

What, you're the guy who's just going to come in and save the day?

I saved your life.

Yeah, you did, after you did all that shit to me.

And now you think that maybe I was sent here to destroy you.

- But you were, weren't you? - What?

Sent here to destroy me.

I think it's time that you let me go.

I'll let you go when I'm clear.

Look, Riad, back in the cabin...

you said something important about change.

And I just want you to know...

that, um...

that whatever you're doing...

whatever you think you're doing, it's, it's, um...

it doesn't just change with one person.

You're wrong.

You're wrong. One person is everything.

Gandhi, Kennedy, Martin Luther King.

The lone wolf makes the difference.

Good guys, on the other hand, they're the worst.

They, they sit on their ass while bad guys take over.

Okay, and after all of that,

after all the bullshit, all the lies,

the truth eventually comes out.

Truth, truth finds a way?

Truth won't do shit.

- I'll find a way. - At what cost?

Assassination, a couple gunshot wounds.

They will get me, I know that, just like they got my brother.

It's just a matter of time.

We're the ones that get disappeared.

Well, it's just easier to waterboard you

and throw you in Guantanamo.

Maybe that will happen, but I need to be fearless.

It takes one voice, one person who has the courage to say enough.

Is that what you told the guy that you kidnapped? Was that your pitch?

Spook with a guilty conscience, he confessed to a lot of shit.

- Oh, so he was helping you. - I think so. That's what he said.

If he called in my location, they would've been on me fast,

but it, it gave me a chance...

a window of opportunity.

What was on that flash drive?

Incontrovertible proof.

That was what, going to change the world?

I don't know. Probably not.

But it was something.

A chink in the armor.

I owe my brother that much.

Should've let it go.

What's done is done.

I ran, they took steps.

My bank account's locked. My identity's gone.

I'm barely a person.

I'm sorry.

I really am.

Hey, I brought your camera. You should thank me.

Yeah, well, bird-watching seems a little unimportant right now.

- What are you doing? - Appreciating your work.

No, stop. Okay, that's private.

Not if you're selling them to a magazine.

Okay, that's enough, okay?

No, you're good. Don't be embarrassed.

Thanks.

Look, I, um...

I want to apologize.

I, um...

I think I, uh...

Simply new surveillance tools...

- Riad? - ...including a number of programs...

Cellphone metadata and boomerang

routing to prevent economic espionage,

and threats to Homeland Security.

These are high priority

- national security threats. - Are you okay?

Foreign governments, as well as terrorist cells,

operating both inside and outside...

Mr. Bishara, let me officially welcome you

to the very best of the clandestine organizations.

Riad.

I do hope I'll be able to look into my brother's situation as well.

Absolutely.

- Riad, are you okay? - I'm fine.

- I should really look at your shoulder. - No! I said I'm fine.

Okay.

Actually, um...

actually, you're, you're right,

you should, um, you should just pull over and let me out.

I'll take my bag and go. I can...

Keep you clear of this thing.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

I, uh... made a mistake.

Can I drive you into town or anything?

No, this is fine.

Thank you.

Yeah.

- He sent you. - Who?

To eliminate the threat? I'm the threat?

No, please.

Please, don't...

Stop.

No, no, you have it.

I'm not crazy.

The world needs to know I'm not fucking crazy.

No, no, no, no. I can stop them.

Only I can stop them.

We can stop them.

Oh, no.

Riad.

Riad, I need you to tell me the password, okay?

Come closer.

Text messages just pop up.

Worst phone ever.

Oh, my God.

Veracity is questionable.

He has upset several tangent agencies.

Neutralize only. Be discrete.

Expect interference.

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