All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 09x08 - Dr. Razmik Maier (No. 168).MeGusta+mSD+DEXTEROUS.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

Hey! Oh, my goodness!

- Sam!
- Hey! Hey, I love you, too!

Sam!

We'll see you at the match on Sunday!

- Ah, y-you're too kind.
- Sam! Sam.

Hey. What's your
relationship to Razmik Maier?

Sorry. I already did the presser.

And m-my dad says you're
too old to win against Grishov.

I hope your pops didn't bet the house.

Otherwise, you're gonna be
sleeping in a tent!

How are you so sure?

One word, my guy. Practice.

Are you working with the doctor?

Do you know who else he's working with?

Thank you, everyone!

- Sam!
- Hey! Hey! Hey! Thank you!

Do you know who else he's working with?

Sam!

She knows. That reporter.

I don't know how she knows,
but she does!

Which means it's only a matter
of time before everyone else does!

She's persistent, but unimportant.

What matters is you

and the goals you are
close to accomplishing.

- She is a reporter!
- She's one reporter.

Everyone else thinks
you're aging like fine wine.

Aging like fine wine is fine for wine,

but when you're a tennis pro,
people start asking questions.

Let them. You've never
failed a drug test,

and with me, you never will.

We've talked about this.
You know how uncomfortable it makes me.

All of it.

Besides, I-I feel good.
I am... I'm winning.

I want you to keep winning.

Look, my dad is gonna be here
any minute, so you cannot be here.

I'm sure Ken's happy
you made the finals.

He'll be even happier when you win.

Come. We have work to do.

Good.

Now close your eyes.

Visualize the match,

what you need to do to win.

To be the best there is.

The best there ever will be.

Sammy?

Sammy! It's Dad!

Yo, Sam!

Come on, sleepy head. Up and at 'em.

No! Sam!

My boy.

Sam!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

What's this?

Proof that I'm innocent.
I took a blood test.

The lab misplaced the results.

I didn't want to draw
attention by getting another,

so I couldn't confirm it until now.

You were drugged. GHB.

Well, that explains
why you can't remember.

The perfect drug to give someone

you're trying to frame
for the perfect murder.

Yeah. The homicide detective, Heber,

you show this to him?

- I didn't. I can't.
- Why not?

You said it yourself,
it proves that you're innocent.

Remember when you told me
you worked a little magic

on my service weapon
to make it look like

it wasn't used to kill Doug?

We ran the ballistics.
We know the truth.

But they don't, and they never will.

We were being watched.

Ugh.

Coop, you got to tell Heber.

Whoever killed Doug knows that
you tampered with evidence,

and I know that he knows
because he called me.

He called you. What does he want?

I don't know. But he wants something.

'Cause I've roped you
and Charlene into a cover-up,

he thinks he's got the
leverage to get me to do it.

Any idea who it is?

None.

Only way to get us out
of the hole that I've dug

is to find out who he is
and prove what he's done.

Once we do that, then we go to the cops.

Mmm. Where do we start?

Is everything alright?
Are you expecting a call?

This belonged to the man
who shot Elizabeth.

Why do you have it?

That night, when everything
was falling apart,

I guess muscle memory
or instinct told me

to have a guy get it from the morgue.

In case there were loose ends.

- I see.
- Yes. I know you do.

I see what you're doing.
I'm less clear why.

I now know Dembe gave
Elizabeth that letter before she died,

but in the past two years
I've never really asked

any questions about
what happened that night.

And now you are.

My young friend Tadashi will
be coming here in about an hour.

And I want you to give this to him.

I've asked him to hack into
and pull the phone's

GPS history from that day, that night.

Once I know where the killer went,

I'll know if there's more to the story.

If you look hard enough, you'll find

there's more to every story.

But that doesn't mean you should.

It's your present that demands
your attention,

not your past.

You're right, Mierce.

But please give it to him anyway.

Harold?

I missed your call.
Sorry for all the back-and-forth.

That's why I was calling,
actually. Back-and-forth.

What do you know
about professional tennis?

Sam Rhode. Number eight in the world.

At 36, he was playing the
best tennis of his career.

- Now he's dead.
- Well, there was rumors he was juicing.

- I guess now we know.
- Not according to Reddington.

The M.E. said Rhode OD'd
on a synthetic oxygen carrier

designed to increase stamina,

but it gave him a heart attack instead.

The M.E.'s focused on how Rhode died,
not why.

Reddington says the "why"
involves this man,

Dr. Razmik Maier.

A German pharmacologist
whispered to be responsible

for keeping two generations
of world-class athletes

a step ahead of WADA.

Giving East Germans steroids
during the Cold War,

EPO to U.S. cyclists in the '90s,

and hemoglobin-based oxygen carriers

to the Russian Federation in 2014.

If Maier devoted his career
to helping athletes win

and if they were his clients,

why would he suddenly want to kill one?

Because that's what his
biggest client wants him to do.

Who's bigger than the
8th-ranked player in the world?

The Boswell Syndicate,
a family-run sports book

catering to the decidedly
criminal element

who are unable or unwilling
to satisfy their predilection

in the betting parlors
of Vegas, Macao, or Monaco.

And Maier is in business with them?

Rumor has it the Boswells,
James and Junior,

pay Dr. Maier a significant fee

in exchange for inside information,

who's doping,
where they are in their cycle.

Inside information is one thing.
Murder's another.

A generation ago,
the Boswells controlled

the nation's sports book.

But betting on sports
has exploded since then,

in casinos, online.

Three years ago,
the Supreme Court struck down laws

prohibiting states from
authorizing sports betting.

As a result, the Boswells'
once-hefty profit margins

all but evaporated.

To retain business, they cut their vig,

but their ability to survive an outcome

that exposed them to large
losses was terribly compromised.

So instead of putting a finger
on the scale,

I'm told they enlist their German friend

to put the full weight
of everything he knows on it.

Supposedly Dr. Maier still provides

the Boswells inside information,

but, in what Reddington says
are a few select cases,

he "accidentally" overdoses a player

whose performance might wipe them out.

Players like Sam Rhode who
were already working with Maier,

so it was easy to make
their murder look accidental.

Aram, review Reddington's
theory with the M.E,

see if it holds up.

Ressler, Park, talk to Rhode's parents.

See if they know anything
about Dr. Maier.

Reddington's gonna take
the lead with the Boswells,

and he asked you to join him.

Did he say why? He did not.

Maybe he wants to talk
about the good old days?

So, you went to visit Liz. How was that?

It was good. Long overdue.

What I mean is, I know
you're still struggling

and I'm hoping that going
to the cemetery...

- I'm hoping it helped.
- You know what? It did.

I thought it was gonna have
the opposite effect, but, uh,

I'm good. I'm...

Well, the fancy word for it
is, uh, "titrating."

I'm weaning myself off.

It's hard, but, uh, the light at the end

of the proverbial tunnel,
I can see it now.

And I can see your face.

I'm glad you shaved.

I'll take it as a sign that
you've got nothing to hide.

Ani, got a sec?

No, I don't, definitely not for you.

Any comment on Sam Rhodes?

Seriously. I told you
to stop contacting me!

Tell me what you know before
someone else "accidentally" dies.

I'm not gonna tell you again.

Leave me alone.
Or I will call the police.

Is winning that important to you?

That you'd cover for Maier?

I'm not gonna tell you again.

Ani! Ani, come on!

You have too many questions.

I know about the letter,
that you showed it to Elizabeth.

It made her happy.

And hours later, she was dead.

All the more reason to have told her.

Unless telling her is one
of the reasons why she died.

What does that mean?

Hey. Hey! Stella!

You got 10 minutes to give me
everything you've got

on your doping story.

Ten minutes,
or the 20 milliliter of iron

I gave you will kill you.

You give me your notebooks,
your laptop, your passwords,

I give you adrenaline.

I get what I want, and you get
the antidote you need.

Go up to 10,000. It's got to be now.

It starts at 3:00.

Junior!

That's right.
On his shoes coming untied.

You! Go out!

Oh, dear. Here I was hoping
time would heal this wound.

If we set the odds right,
people will bet

on his hair lighting on fire.

Speaking of odds.

What are the odds
you take one more step,

I blow your head off?

- What's this?
- Bartman.

That ball was destroyed.

Uh-huh.

And the moon is made of ribs.

This doesn't make up for Professor
Tannenbaum's disappearance.

The man was an alcoholic.

Plying him with mai tais
and getting him to place

his hard-earned money on ships
that would never come in

was not your finest moment.

Yes, my relocation of him
cost you some ill-gotten gain,

but now he's sober,
you have the Bartman ball,

peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

- You got authentication for this?
- I do.

And I'll give it to you right
after you've heard me out.

Wakefield City starts in ten.
You got five.

It'll only take one.

Is the Wakefield game on the level?

As far as I know. Why?

Junior, this is Kenny Mills.
We're associates.

Or were, until we had

a falling-out over a mutual friend.

After her death, he spiraled

and, like our friend Tannenbaum,

turned in sorrow
to your fine establishment.

If you check your records,
you'll see he placed

a $50,000 money-line wager
on the Wakefield City match.

As a down payment on what I
hope will be our renewed friendship,

I promised Kenny I'd make sure

you weren't artificially
sweetening the outcome.

- You or Dr. Maier.
- Maier?

I haven't heard from him in,
oh, at least two years.

And here I've heard
you were working together.

Well, you heard wrong.

Whatever he's doing,
he's not doing it for me.

Forgive my ignorance,
but who is Bartman?

An innocent man wrongly accused.

His life gets ruined.

Then time heals, people apologize.

Kind of like me and Red here.

Sounds like maybe you guys, too?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Make sure you give me everything.

The truth will come out.

Perhaps, but it won't be from you.

We're very sorry for your loss,

but we do appreciate
you speaking with us.

Thank you for saying that.
We're just, um...

Sorry.

It's too much.

Losing him, then you telling
us he might have been killed?

Who would do that?

- I'm sorry I'm late.
- Oh.

No, please. Come in.

This is our dear friend Walker Burgos.

Yeah, my, uh...
My company sponsored Sam.

Athlanta. The, uh, shoes, right?

And athletic wear, yes.

But, uh, when I met Sam,
it was just shoes, yeah.

He was our first endorsement.

He felt like a little brother of sorts.

This man's name is Razmik Maier.

We have reason to believe
he provided Sam

with the drugs used to kill him.

Do you know him?

No.

Let me get you some tissues.
Uh, is your restroom this way?

- It is. Thanks.
- Thank you.

- Anything?
- I know of him.

Yeah. Everyone in my business does.

And anyone with any sense
knows to stay away from him.

Oh. Thank you.

You said, uh...

You said you had
"reason to believe" all this.

Who gave you that reason?

- Was it that reporter?
- Reporter?

She was always asking questions,
making accusations.

Sam, he wouldn't jay-walk as a kid.

He was a rule-follower.

There's no way he'd be
involved with someone like that.

The reporter. Do you know her name?

No idea. We refused to talk to her.

Walker, help me out here.

Sam told me about her.

Um, said she was a doctor of some sort.

Uh, worked for medical journals,

uh, did pieces on health and fitness.

Uh, he said her name was, um,
S-Stella. Stella Huang.

She the one trying to convince you

that our boy used drugs to cheat?

We haven't spoken to Miss Huang,

but if she knows anything
that'll help us figure out

what happened to Sam, perhaps we should.

Do you have her number
or know where she works?

- She could be in danger.
- I don't,

but it's possible my office does.

Yes, I'll... Let me give them a call.

- Thanks, Walker.
- Yeah. Of... Of course.

And if there's anything else
that you can think of

that I can help you with,
then please feel free to call.

Stella Huang. FBI.

Miss Huang?

I'm having trouble feeling a pulse.

It's clear.

This is Special Agent Alina Park.

We need EMTs. 2440 Junior Terrace.

What is that?
What are you talking about?

Show me. And if you say "what,"

I swear on my mother's grave
I'll report you as a thief.

Alright, alright. You win. Put it back.

I preferred the beard.

At least you were honest
about having something to hide.

Hang on, Stella. Help's coming.

Stella Huang died on her way to the ER.

What do we know about her?

Not much. She was an M.D.
who did health reporting.

She also had a sports-medicine podcast.

When I asked Sam Rhode's
parents about Maier,

they assumed it was because
I had spoken to Huang.

It was clear that she had figured
out there was a connection.

Maier was so good,
the doping agencies couldn't catch him.

But Stella Huang did,

so it makes sense that
he killed her because of it.

- So how do the Boswells fit into this?
- They don't.

Raymond was right.
They did work with Maier.

- But that ended years ago.
- Maier acted alone?

If she had evidence that
Maier was doping Sam Rhodes

or anyone else,
whoever killed her took it.

Stella was drugged.

Not a PED, but, still,
it points to Maier.

I agree. She knew about his involvement,
so he silenced her.

But, uh, he didn't silence her.

Was something in the apartment?

No. Or her clothes or her car.

But there was something in her.

- In her?
- Yeah.

Like inside her. The M.E. found

this flash drive
in her intestinal tract.

- Can you extract any data?
- Uh, maybe.

Give or take a little gastric acid.

Let us know when you have something.

Dembe, Ressler, go back to the family

and see if they can tell you
any more about the connection

between their son Sam and Dr. Maier.

It was clear their family
didn't know much.

But there was someone there
who might, Walker Burgos.

The CEO of Athlanta?

Yeah. How do you know about him?

Uh, his company.

Last year I signed up for
a triathlon. I didn't do it.

The whole "peeing while
riding your bike" thing

was just, uh, too intimidating.

But, anyway, I got really
into the idea of running

and bought sunglasses, those sunglasses.

The ones Sam Rhode endorses,

along with everything else he's wearing.

Burgos said he spoke to Sam
about the reporter.

He offered to help us
in any way he could.

That's a generous offer.
I think you should take him up on it.

Do you mind if I punt this
to Aram and Dembe?

Alina's having another
one of her, uh, headaches.

- I want to make sure she's okay.
- Of course.

I'm sure she'll appreciate your concern.

- How's your headache?
- I don't have a headache.

I told Cooper I did so I
didn't have to be around you.

I don't have an excuse.
But I do have an explanation.

I'm sure you do.

I'm sure you have
a thousand explanations.

But not one that could explain
how you could be such a dick.

You do know my marriage
is hanging by a thread,

that I got zapped by a next-gen weapon

that can kill people through walls,

that I had a miscarriage for God's sake,

but still I found the time
to invest in you,

in your problem, in trying to fix it,

which, of course, is the last
thing I should have done,

helping you cheat the drug test

so you wouldn't
lose your job to addiction

like my mom lost hers.

She fell apart after that,

so I figured, if I helped you,
you wouldn't.

Well, I'm done helping you.

And if you don't help yourself,

I'll tell Cooper about the drug test.

Yeah, you tell Cooper
that you helped me cheat,

you're gonna be in just
as much trouble as I am.

That's right. It's called taking
responsibility for your actions.

Something you're clearly incapable of.

Shut the door on your way out.

Fast forward to 13:34.

Stop. Now play it from there.

And the second you look away
you see you look away,

look what he does, the bartender.

Why?

I see it, but I still can't believe it.

Or understand it.

Yeah, well, our plan was to I.D.

who did it and then find out why.

And now we have a lead.
His name is Abel Judge.

You find him, and you're one step closer

to finding out who's threatening
your life and your livelihood.

Before we go any further,
I just want to thank you.

What has happened is unimaginable,

and the attention that you are giving it

means the world to me and to my company.

We were talking about Stella Huang.

Sam talked to me about her,

that she was alleging
he worked with Maier.

He denied it, but...

- You believe he was doping.
- I do.

At his age, what he was doing.
I should have said something.

But when he won,
my company won, so I didn't.

And I have to live with that,

not having the courage to
speak out against the doping

that is such a cancer on sports.

And apparently Stella Huang
had the courage that I lack

because what she was doing,
trying to expose

a man like Razmik Maier,
I admire her for doing that.

Do you know anyone else who
Maier might be working with?

Any of the other athletes
that you sponsor?

I don't. I'm sorry.

You might not know,
but whoever's doing this does.

They stole Stella's notes and computer.

We're gonna need a list of
all the athletes you sponsor.

Of course. If you'd like,
I can call the office right now

and have them send the list over.

Thank you. We'll give you some privacy.

When you're finished, we'll be outside.

Thank you.

Hey. Can I please get a list of
all of the athletes we sponsor?

Names and numbers.

Oh, also, um, Ani Bolin.
Does she still live in Philly?

No, no, no, no, no, no.

What's going on?

Cosecha Mayas. Your favorite restaurant.

Sorpresa! Ha!

Since we can't be
in Flores, I thought we'd bring it here.

Raymond called,
said you missed home, and my tamales.

The next thing I know, a car shows up,

takes me to the airport, and here I am.

I'm missing some coriander.

Weecha can take you to the market.

You can get whatever else you need.

I hope you're hungry.
I plan on making a feast.

You were so down this morning.

I'm hoping this will raise your spirits.

Tadashi left you this.

He said he found what you asked for.

The rest of the story.

You want to raise my spirits?
Don't look.

Nothing good will come from it.

Why does it bother you?

It's important to me.

But it upsets you. Why is that?

I appreciate what you did,
bringing Herman.

But I don't want us to be
eating his food here.

I want us to be there.

The way we were.

And you think that this prevents that.

I think it will.

If you open it.

Burgos gave us a list of the
Athlanta-sponsored athletes.

So far, no one knows,
or is willing to say they know,

anything about Maier.

Well,
Reddington was wrong about the Boswells.

Maybe he's wrong about Maier, too.

And what, there's another explanation

for why Stella Huang was killed?

Well, we have a theory
why she was killed

but not an explanation.

She was killed by Maier because
he was afraid of being exposed,

of being found out.

But what about the tennis player?

You think that's reason enough
for Maier to kill an athlete

when he's devoted his life
to helping them?

I do. In my experience,
people will do almost anything

to hide what they're ashamed of.

Well, experience is one thing,
and facts are another.

At this point, we don't have any.

Okay. Okay, okay.
The way she swallowed the flash drive?

Uh, first of all, wow, right?
Talk about dedication.

Based on where it was found
in her intestinal tract,

the M.E. says she swallowed it
five minutes before she died.

While her killer
was destroying evidence,

she was hiding some.

You want evidence?

Check this out.

Now, most of the information
was destroyed by her stomach acid.

Fun fact, did you know that acidity

is measured on a pH scale
from zero to 14,

with stomach acid clocking in at a one,

just above battery acid?

Were any of the files uncorrupted?

Oh. Yeah. Right, right.
And they showed this.

So, what do these tell us?

That Maier was the killer.

- And he's not done killing.
- Who's the unsub?

Ani Bolin, a top middle-distance runner

and one of Athlanta's biggest stars.

Now, during my flirtation
with being a triathlete,

I studied her form.

Kind of got obsessed with it, actually.

The length of her stride,

pounds per square inch
every time she pushed off.

Basically, the way she flies
was so depressingly impossible

for me to approximate that I decided

to stick with what I'm good at.

- Cycling, right?
- Orange sherbet.

Dembe, Park,
get Bolin's address and roll out.

Ressler, call Burgos.

Have him contact his athlete
and get her to sit tight.

There have been two victims.
There isn't gonna be a third.

Mr. Burgos. Donald Ressler.

I need you to reach out to Ani Bolin.

It's Maier.
He's targeting her, isn't he?

We think he might be.
But that's why I'm calling.

I want you to let her know that
there's nothing to worry about.

- We're on our way.
- I'll call her right now.

Thanks for the heads-up.

- Hello?
- Ani. It's me.

I just spoke to the FBI.

Thank God. It's about time
they get involved.

I-I don't want to get caught,

but I don't want to end up
like Sam, either.

- You won't end up like Sam.
- Or Stella.

She was a pain in the ass,
but, oh, my God!

Ani, listen to me. I told the FBI

that I would stay with you
until they got here.

H-Here? What, are you in Philly?

I am, for an important meeting
that involves you, actually.

Okay, I'm not interested in meetings.

I just want to know
why this is happening.

Do you even know where Maier is?

No.

I haven't heard from him at all.

Just sit tight. Help is on the way.

You're packing.

I want to go home.

I love you,
but I'm afraid of this place,

what it does to you and to Weecha.

I can't watch what
it's turning you into.

I want you, Mierce.

Yes.

And you want this.

Can't they co-exist?

In some people.

Not in you. It consumes you.

It'll be over soon.

It was over when we met.

I thought it was.

I was wrong.

You're better than this.

This should not define you.

You know what Elizabeth was to me,

who she was to me.

Yes.

Which is why I know you have to let go.

Not of her, but of your anger.

Your need for revenge.
It's going to kill others.

I don't want it to kill you.

Please let go.

Don't do it for me. Do it for you.

If I do that, will you stay?

I would.

But if I stay, you won't.

I should finish packing.

What the hell is going on?

The reporter, Stella Huang,
found out about Maier,

started asking questions.

Maier got spooked.
He started covering his tracks.

By killing Sam and Stella?
That's insane.

Well, of course it is.
But he's not going to find you.

I promise you we're safe.
I will protect you.

Yeah, until the whole world finds
out that I was one of his clients.

Everyone will know that I was doping.

And there's no keeping me
safe from that.

- Ani, you don't have to worry.
- Wait.

You're the one
who hooked me up with him.

You said that my contract
was contingent upon results,

knowing that the only way
I could get those results

was through Maier.

Are you telling me you
didn't like those results?

- I'm not...
- The sub four minute 1,500?

The prize money, the added attention?

You became famous. I sold more shoes.

But the only difference is now
he's coming after me, not you.

I told you, you don't
have to worry about Maier.

But you also told me that
he's covering his tracks.

Sam. Stella. He got to them.

How can you be so sure that
he's not gonna come for me, too?

Because I am here

and I won't let anything happen to you.

Okay?

Come here. Come here.

Is that Maier's bag?

I thought you said you
hadn't heard from him...

I'm afraid I lied about that.

Open up. It's me.

Open up.

The FBI knows.

- Not everything, but enough.
- They're coming to talk to her.

I bought us some time,
30 minutes, no more.

I got everything. All her work.

Ani's the only one left who knows.

Ani...

And you.

Wh... What are you doing?

The FBI asked me about you.
They know you're involved.

People have been after me for years.

The FBI will find out,

and when they do, they could find me.

And that's not gonna happen.

Let's go.

- Burgos...
- Move!

Miss Bolin! FBI! Miss Bolin?

Miss Bolin? FBI!

Ani?

Please tell me we're not too late.

Low pulse. Loss of consciousness.

Okay. It's chloroform.

We're late. But we're not too late.

Call the paramedics.

I'm going after Maier.

Okay, this is Special Agent
Aram Mojtabai with the FBI.

We need a team at 32 Cottage Grove Ave.

No. It's... It's me, Walker.

I came as fast as I could.

What happened?

Maier. We came in, he went out.

Well, don't let him get away. Go.

I-I've got her. I'll call 911.
I already called them.

The paramedics should be here soon.

Go! Please.

Thank you. Thank you.

So, we've been going
through Stella Huang's files.

There weren't just photos.
There was documents, receipts.

She knew who Maier met with
and who was paying for his work.

That's Maier with Walker Burgos.

Yeah, and these are the
e-mails and text threads proving

that Maier was on Burgos'
payroll, that his supplies

and the facility
he worked from were paid for

by an Athlanta slush fund
controlled by Burgos.

The reporter knew everything,

that Burgos paid Maier
to juice the athletes.

Publishing that would destroy
Burgos and his company.

Alert Park and Aram, let them know

there's another suspect we
have to be on the lookout for.

Burgos is with her now. Anything?

No. Which is weird.
The way the apartment looked,

I would've sworn
he could not have gotten far.

It's Ressler.
Ani should be fine, but Maier's gone.

It's not just Maier. It's Burgos.
They're working together.

- Say that again.
- Burgos played us.

He got us to tell him
everything we knew about Bolin.

But it's a good thing that
you got there before him.

Oh, no, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Aram, what is it? Did you copy?

Drop it! Put it down.

Now!

It's over.

She's just running an errand.
She'll be right back.

Great! Just in time.

Herman, it looks delicious.

Have you looked?

We can talk about that later.

You looked.

I told Weecha to get
a new bouquet each week

and put them in water.

After five days, send me a picture.

Depending on what they look like,

I'll know what to do for you.

How are you going to leave?

Do you want me to drive you somewhere?

- I called a car.
- I'll drive you.

I'd prefer not.

I need you, Mierce.

I know, Raymond.

When I was a child,
my parents took me to Greece,

to see the wonders of the world.

I slept through the Parthenon,

I was bored to tears at Thermopylae,

but when I got to Olympia

and saw the remains of
the first Olympic stadium,

I was overwhelmed.

If you're ramping up
to ask me a question, don't.

I'm not saying anything
without a lawyer.

As a general rule, yes,

questions are part of
interrogating a suspect,

but in your case, a lot of our
questions have been answered.

Well, then, as I'm not
the least bit interested

in your summer vacations,
there's nothing to discuss.

Sports predates math.

History began with writing,

and sports began

7,000 years before
people learned to write.

Sports isn't just as old as man.

It is essential to mankind.

And you perverted it,

you and Maier and everyone
who takes something

so pure and elegant and... And fair,

and cheats.

Thanks, Louis.

Yeah, we found your car. And Maier.

And all the evidence
you took from Stella Huang.

There is evidence here

that shows you were juicing

thirty-two athletes.

See, you thought Stella Huang
only knew about Sam and Ani.

But she knew everything.

And now so do we.

Why don't you start from the beginning?

Going to the cemetery only
made things harder, not easier.

I mean, if there was a light
at the end of the tunnel,

visiting Liz only made it harder to see.

When I put back the prescription pad,

I had already torn off a page.

I used it to get these.

You can't do this alone,

weaning yourself off, titrating.

It's like handcuffing yourself
to your desk at night

just to keep from falling off the wagon.

You need help,

help I can't give you
because I don't know how,

so when I try, I only make things worse.

I know you're going through a lot,

and I don't want to add to your burdens,

but it's just, I'm asking you,
please, don't give up on me.

Okay?

We executed a search warrant
on Athlanta.

And Ani Bolin, her doctors say

they expect her to make a full recovery.

This came for you, from Reddington.

Thanks.

Was I right? About why he
wanted you to work with him?

Was it about the good old days?

It was definitely about the old days.

Good? Not so much.

Well, you did good work on this case.

- You all did.
- Thank you.

That's where you told Elizabeth.

In a coffee shop.

Based on when I asked you
to give her the letter

after I'm dead and the
time stamp on the photos,

it took you just over an hour
to betray me.

We already discussed this,
that I told her.

The photos came from Vandyke's phone.

I asked Tadashi to pull GPS coordinates,

to see where Vandyke had gone

in the hours before he shot Elizabeth.

Tadashi found the coordinates,
but then he found these.

And, yes, the images
themselves only confirm

what you and I have already discussed.

What we haven't discussed,
what the photos really show,

is that the man who killed
Elizabeth, a man you knew,

was 20 feet from you,
taking your picture,

and you were so intent on your betrayal

that you missed him,

and in missing him,
you failed to protect

both me and her.

How did Vandyke know
where we'd be that night?

How is it that he was waiting
for us at the restaurant?

No one knew we'd all be there

except for Elizabeth and you and me.

Yet there he was, and now we know why.

Your job wasn't to tell my story

the way you wanted it told.

Whether or not you were
at peace with my decision

was irrelevant
to what I hired you to do.

You had a job.

And for decades, you did it better

than anyone possibly could.

Until you didn't.

You could sense a threat a mile away.

But the biggest threat?

Standing 20 feet away?

You missed him.

And Elizabeth is dead because of that.

Elizabeth is dead for many reasons.

Pull over.

But it looks like as if
one of those reasons is me.

Get out.

Should we go home?

Do you think she'll come back?

Not unless your investigation
into Elizabeth's death is over.

Is it?

It's just beginning.

Hi. This is Alina.

Leave a message, and I'll call you back.

First of all,

you don't make things worse.

You call me out, hold me responsible.

I need that.

I also need you to try

to get to work early tomorrow.

Doesn't matter what time. I'll be here.

Thank you.

Congratulations, Harold.

Now you have the blood
of two men on your hands.

Who are you? Who is...