All language subtitles for Blacklight.2022.2160p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.265-EVO

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

Listen up, people!

If fingers need to be pointed,

we know where to point them.

They use the recovering economy

and the rising stock market
as their bulletproof vest.

But whose money is it?

- Is it mine?
- No!

- Is it yours?
- No!

- I can't hear you.
- No!

And despite all this wealth
they are hoarding,

they have the gall
to accuse us

of trying to destroy society
with our policies

that promote equal pay
for women.

Racial equality for all people.

And health care for everyone.

- Well, what do we say?
- Game over!

- Say that again!
- Game over!

- Say like you mean it!
- Game over!

They label us
"domestic terrorists"

when they're the ones
stifling our First Amendment

with ruthless threats
and divisive political warfare.

Financial greed and unbridled
power is all they know.

Well, now, we have
something to say!

- Say it! Say it!
- Say it!

If the leaders of
the United States Government

won't respect its people...

its people
will not respect them!

Sofia! Sofia! Sofia!

Sofia! Sofia! Sofia!

Um, could you...

Never mind.

Ma'am. Sorry about that.

- Hope it won't hurt my rating.
- No...

Come on, you cowards!

- Come on!
- Shut up!

- Everybody, move back!
- Get on out of here!

We want that shitbird spy!

Sir, we can't do that.
Now, please, back up!

Hand the hussy over!

Or we'll feed her and y'all
to T and Rex

one piece at a time.

- You Robinson's special guy?
- I am.

- Thank goodness you're here.
- You called the local sheriff?

Of course not.

Someone must have called it in

when I unloaded my revolver
at the crazies.

I panicked.

- What'd you do?
- I didn't do anything.

Based on the fact these crazies
are about to bury you

in a shallow grave,
something happened.

I've been out here
almost two years

playing the part
with these racist bastards,

and it's getting inside my head.

I got sloppy.

They found a few bugs.

Somehow traced it back to me.

Stop it,
Special Agent Davidson.

I need you to keep your
wits intact.

I thought it was your job

to get me out of
this kind of situation.

That is correct.
And I'm about to.

Come on, bitch!
Come on out!

You ain't pretty enough
to be this stupid.

You're about to eat
some buckshot.

Back up before someone
gets hurt!

Which one of you wants
an extra hole in your head?

Hey, let's light 'em up,
like a firework!

- Bitch.
- Move!

- Move!
- Let's go!

- Stay back!
- Grab the hoses!

Get in the car.

Stay low.

Come on! Come on!

Subtle.

Listen, can we
just cut to it?

Are you officially
asking for my help?

Because if you are,

I think I have a few solutions.

Alright then, I'll handle it.

We'll talk soon.

The President's Chief of Staff
isn't happy

with how local PD are handling
the millennial soapbox crowd.

Didn't realize
the FBI was charged

with crowd control
at the White House.

At least they know who to call

when they want
something done right.

You ask me, all these politicos
are chasing their own shadows.

If they wanna last longer
than one term,

they need to smarten up

and understand what got them
elected in the first place.

Fear.

When the people are afraid
for their jobs

or their wallets,
or their lives,

they want Uncle Sam
to protect them.

So if these
politically-correct puppets

wanna straighten out
ornery protesters,

give 'em fear.

Good thing they have you, Gabe.

If I've learned anything,
this job's all about

finding creative ways
of keeping the peace.

So...

Davidson.

She's pretty shaken up.

I dropped her off at a facility.

She's... being cleaned up
and debriefed.

If it's not one thing,
it's another.

These deep covers
are like the birds

that keep flying
into these windows.

They wiggle and flop around
a whole lot,

but eventually they come back
to their senses.

Yeah, most of the time.

What a waste.

Lucky we got her out at all.

Oh, I wouldn't call it luck.

I would call it having an ace
in the hole. You.

As always...

I appreciate you making it
happen, Travis.

- Hey, princess.
- Grandpa!

- Where'd you go?
- I was checking the perimeter.

- All clear?
- All clear.

Let's get some cake.

- Stay at your place?
- I'd like to try a normal life.

Be in town more.

Be more involved in her world.

Retire?

Is Gabe on board with this plan?

Yeah, you haven't even mustered
up the courage to tell him.

It's not that simple.
I'm going to. Soon.

Open it. Open it!

- Is that a purse?
- Wow!

Maybe one or two weekends
a month.

The odd weekday,
if we can make that work.

You're busy enough
at the hospital.

This way, I could help
take a bit of the load off.

And it would be good for her.

- And you know this how?
- She suggested it.

She likes me.

And she wants a male figure
in her life

on a, you know,
consistent basis.

Dad, is that a dig
at my love life?

Not at all.

Not your fault
that deadbeat ran off.

Maybe she does,
but... I'm just not convinced

that she needs one who's
borderline certifiable.

It's not that bad.

- How many exits?
- Exits?

In this building.
How many exits?

What is it? What is it?

She makes rounds...
checking to see

that all the doors in the house
are locked.

Good.

Every hour, on the hour.

Could be hereditary.

Maybe, or she could be
learning it from you.

You know,
first it's the locks.

Next it will be the windows,
the gas stove, the electricity,

and before you know it, she's
going to be asking for a Beretta

for her tenth birthday.

That's too young
by a couple of years.

Look, I'm handling it.

It's under control.

And besides,
a little paranoia's healthy.

You never know
what nutcases are out there.

I'm just giving her the tools
to protect herself.

That's where you're wrong.

You think that it's all about
protecting her?

In reality,
you might be the one

who turns her
into a crazy person.

Three. Or five.

Front entrance.
Fire exit on the right.

Loading dock in the back.

Two more, if you count
the windows in the bathrooms.

Look, I wasn't a
great husband or father

and I can't unwind that.

But if you give me the chance,

I'd like to be the best
grandfather I can be.

This for Natalie, or you?

Thank you, gramps. I love it!

You're welcome, sweetie.

Oh.

Washington News Cycle.

Pass.

- Pass!
- Drew.

Yeah, Sofia Flores' death
is a tragedy.

No one's arguing that.

But to call out Metro PD
as criminal

for not naming a suspect
or divulging evidence,

that's not news.

That's them doing their job.

I've been writing about her
for over a year

because she was the voice
of her generation

spearheading a movement
for real change,

and in return, was mowed down
in a hit-and-run.

There's no reason to believe
it was anything other than

wrong time, wrong place,
bad luck.

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

Oh! God.

That's gonna cost me a few quid.

The SUV had no plates.

The rideshare driver
was using a fake name.

That's sketchy.

Okay, so the SUV
was probably new.

And I don't know,
the rideshare guy

was an illegal immigrant
who couldn't use his real name.

Who's to say?

If we don't post something
and make it news,

it'll be like it never happened.

That may be true.

What you wrote isn't.

Look, I appreciate your
enthusiasm for the movement,

I really do.

But news stories
are based on facts.

Find them first

then write your story.

Hey, buddy,
you can't park here.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah...

I... I'll move it.

Gun! Put your hands up!

Look, I can explain.

Show 'em!
Put your hands out the window!

Step out of the vehicle.

Put your hands on your head.

Do not move.

Freeze, asshole!

You keep up
this routine,

there's no way
you're walking out of here.

I'm here to help,
but to do that properly,

I need more information.

What were you planning on doing?

The police found booze, pills
and a handgun in your vehicle.

Were you thinking of putting
a round in your brainpan?

No.

Maybe you had a score to settle.

Were you there to kill someone?

- No.
- Rob a jewelry store?

Look, I wasn't gonna do anything
with the gun.

I was keeping it in the car.

On the passenger seat?

I wasn't thinking straight,
okay?

Are you now?

Alright, Dusty. My time's up.

You're welcome to stay, or we
can stroll out of here together.

But to do that,
you'll need to level with me.

What were you doing?

I was going to talk
to a reporter.

Sign here for Dusty Crane.

Mike, uh, let's just say
this one was never here, yeah?

Thanks.

- Where to, boss?
- A nice, quiet secure place.

Where I get reprogrammed?

Where you can screw your
priorities back on straight.

And after that they'll assign me
to some small town field office

where they can keep an eye on me

while my soul slowly dies,
right?

Or you work through this
speed bump

in order to salvage what's left
of your promising career.

I like you, Dusty.

I like your passion. I like your
commitment to the job.

But you were on the verge of
making a bad choice.

No, it wasn't a bad choice,
it was the right choice.

Wrong. You took an oath.

You need to honor that.

Listen, work with me

and I'll spin it with Robinson

as best I can.

Get you back on track.

Oh, you don't get it, Block.

It's gone too far.

We're crossing lines that should
never be crossed.

Guys like you and me,
we don't decide

where those lines are drawn.

The only thing you need to know
is whose orders you follow.

Your loyalties lie
on the wrong side of the future.

I don't expect everyone
to cope with the mind games

that come with
deep undercover work.

Once you're in it,
it's hard to tell

which way is up, down,
right, wrong.

But you're an intelligent guy

and I do expect you
to cope with it.

You do whatever you gotta do
to me.

I'm not playing
by the Bureau's rules anymore.

We'll see about that.

Oh, shit, shit, shit!

This where my
re-education begins?

Wrist.

- Grandpa!
- Hey, sweetie.

Oh, I'm sorry I'm late.

I needed that hug.

It's okay.
I know you have to work.

Yeah. Um, you here
all by yourself?

Well, not anymore.

Ready to go?
It's our night.

But when you didn't
answer your phone,

Miss Lewis called mommy
at the hospital.

So now I'm supposed to sit tight
and wait for her.

Oh, I see.

But that doesn't mean
you can't stay here with me.

Uh... it certainly doesn't.

Hey, kid!

Come here.

You a criminal?

If it's... if it's a crime to
speak the truth, buddy,

then, yes, I am.

Uh, hey, no,
I wouldn't do that.

I like those buttons, though.
Can I see one of those?

Looks like a fun picnic.

Who are these two?

This is me, and that's mommy.

Of course, which means
that must be me.

No, you silly bean.
That's a stranger.

What, what's a stranger doing?

Watching us.

Watching you? Why?

Has someone been watching you?

I don't know.

I need you to know.

I'm sorry, Natalie. It's okay.

It's just very important for you
always to be aware,

like I've taught you.

But I am.

And tell me if anyone

strange comes up to you,
approaches you.

Okay, I will.

Good girl. Thank you.

Are bad guys gonna hurt you?

Hurt me? Nah.

Why would you think that?

Because mommy says
your job is dangerous.

Don't worry.
She exaggerates.

It's not that dangerous.

Nothing's gonna happen to me,
or you.

- Or mommy?
- Or mommy.

Mommy!

Hi, sweetie. Grandpa.

Dusty! Don't do this!

I think you have an admirer.

Does he live in a castle
and have a heart of gold?

He's on line three.

Says your last few articles
on Sofia Flores

were inspirational.

Was Prince Charming
slurring his words?

Claims he can guarantee you
a story

worthy of a dozen
clickbait headlines.

- Just tell me what it is.
- No.

No, it's too dangerous
to do over the phone.

They're listening.
They're always listening.

I'm gonna come to you,
we'll find some place quiet

to talk about it.

- When?
- How about five minutes?

Move! Move! Get out of the way!

No!

- Look out!
- Move!

What the hell are you doing?

I'm going to free my conscience!

Watch out!

- Get out of the way! Move!
- Hey!

Stop!

No, no, no, no, no!

- Are you Mira?
- Yeah, you are?

Being followed.
Let's go somewhere private.

Wait! What exactly is this
all about?

Look, this is really important.

We're gonna have to do this
another time, okay?

No, wait!

The last person
on the planet

I need talking to the
press is Crane.

He should be
in a secure mental facility.

Natalie's school?

What the hell were you thinking?

I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking.

Bad timing. Poor judgement.

He say anything to you?

He was having a moral code
moment.

Said we were crossing the line.

Must feel nice to be that naive.

Is that all?

Just that he's done following

the Bureau's rules,

and based on his little
truck stunt...

I tend to believe him.

He's a live grenade.

This one makes it
to the front page,

I'm gonna catch heat
from every direction.

Stupid thing!

I haven't properly worn one of
these since Margaret passed.

- Yeah, she had a gift.
- That she did.

Bless her soul.

Letting Crane slip through your
fingers, not like you.

Are you alright?

Yeah, I've just been feeling
a bit distracted.

Well, no need to
hold it in with me, buddy.

What's the trouble?

I'm trying to spend more time
with Natalie.

And?

At this point, Amanda doesn't
trust me, for good reason.

I need to change that.

Anything I can do to help?

Actually, Gabe...

I've been thinking.

Maybe it's time I hang it up.

No. No, no, no.

Not an option.

The thing is,
it's been over 20 years

of the unpredictable.

Never knowing
when you're gonna call

where you're gonna send me
and for how long.

Which has made relationships
difficult.

And now... Natalie needs
stability in her life,

and I want to be that for her.

I appreciate the importance
of family, God knows.

Look at me.

But what you do is crucial,
important work.

Our people
go to dangerous places,

physically and mentally.

And when they go astray,

I need you to bring them back

before they grow horns.

Saving good agents' souls.

Whatever it takes.

I'll tell you what.

Once Dusty's in a cell
and I have the key,

we'll work out a way
for you to spend more time

with your granddaughter.

Deal?

Out of curiosity,
I pulled our security footage

from when I met this guy.

Uh, do you have a name?

No, but our security guards
recognized him.

It's the same guy
who was arrested

for fighting the cops
across the street.

Your fighter's your runner?

You've looked better.
Did you sleep at all last night?

Define sleep.

You know you can just
record your stupid games

and watch them later.

That's rather like
jumping to the belly ache

after you've overeaten
without actually

enjoying the cake first.

I checked every police station
within 50 miles of here.

No record of his arrest.

This feels like another
Mira special.

You don't find that strange?

Maybe they just let him go

to avoid another police
brutality charge.

He beat the crap
out of four cops.

Okay. Maybe you're right.

So, what's the headline?

I didn't say I have a draft,
or even an angle. I just...

He contacted me.
He could be a legitimate source.

Or a nutcase
wanting to go viral.

So... no bank
or credit card activity?

Okay, what about
under Dusty's alias?

His last known cover was...

Uh-huh. I see.

Well, keep an eye on it,
will ya?

Thanks.

No, you silly bean,
that's a stranger...

Watching us...

- Got him?
- Oh, yeah.

Grandpa!

Hey, pumpkin.
Where have you been?

At the park,
flying my kite.

Oh, that sounds fun.
You get it high up in the air?

Not really.
I couldn't run fast enough.

- But mommy did.
- Oh, good job, mommy.

Go inside and wash up
for dinner, please.

Can you stay and eat with us?

We're having homemade pizza.

Oh, I love pizza.

Pizza it is.

That was four times.

Four? Are you sure?

Oh, go again.
One, two, three.

What are you doing?

Ah, installing security cameras.

On my house?

For Natalie's safety.
And yours.

I know that I should just say
thank you,

and... some might consider that
very sweet of you,

but you can't do
things like this

without asking my permission.

I was concerned
you would say no.

And you'd probably be right.

She's drawing pictures
of strangers, watching her.

And what do you think is
feeding her growing paranoia?

Okay, okay, I'm sorry.
I should have asked.

And I admit it. I screwed up
on multiple occasions.

But you've got to know,
I'm trying to fix things.

Natalie doesn't need a fixer
like you.

You sound just like your mother.

Before or after she left us?

I'm worried about you, dad.

There's nothing to worry about.

That's why I'm worried.

Because maybe you can't see it,

but you're not the same dad
that I remember.

You know,
when I was Natalie's age,

your quirks were cute.

Getting my bicycle serviced
every few months.

Waking up at 2:00 and 4:00 a.m.
to make sure all the doors

and windows were still locked,

and getting background checks
on my friends' parents.

Your quirks
aren't quirks anymore.

You need to accept that
and you need to deal with it.

I sometimes wonder

did the disorder change you

or was it your dirty job?

Finish with the cameras.

So please don't do anything else
without asking first.

Can I get
either of you gentlemen

something to drink?

No thank you, ma'am.

Special Agent Lockhart.

Special Agent Wallace.

- Yes, sir.
- Sir.

Come in.

Don't let baggy pants
get to you.

I just can't believe Sarah falls
for his blatant ass-kissing.

She's too smart for that.

My take is, she enjoys it.

Found this on the police wire.

- Is that your guy?
- I think it is.

Not exactly a dream date.
But he is kinda hot.

Wanted by
the DC Police Department.

Considered armed
and mentally unstable.

Hm, I wonder if I should be
curious or scared

about what he wanted to tell me.

Probably both.

"Possession."

"Disturbing the peace.

Assault with a deadly weapon."

Shh! Shh! Shh!

Mira Jones?

Maybe.

I have information
about your story.

The one that ran away.

- You have a name, Agent?
- I'm not an agent.

This isn't an interview.
Please, turn it off.

- Who is he?
- You tell me.

- Why were you meeting him?
- Why did you chase him away?

Has he contacted you again?

Listen.

He's wanted on multiple counts.

If you know where he is,

you're an accessory
after the fact.

Oh, well, thank you for
stopping by and informing me.

I think Little Man's finished,
Mr. Not-An-Agent.

The man needs professional help.
He's unbalanced.

Yeah, I read all about
our friend Dusty's problems.

Guess you don't
have a subscription

to the police wire.

He's on the police wire?

Are we done?

I think we're done.

I don't know
what his intentions were

or why he made contact with you.

But let me be clear.

He's not a source for you to
make your fledgling career on.

- Let it go.
- Okay, this is intimidation.

And you know nothing about me
or my fledgling career.

Name "James Van Dorn"
mean anything to you?

No.

Mr. Van Dorn and his wife lived
in a comfortable six-bedroom

brownstone across
from Montrose Park.

Plenty of room for them
and their three kids.

But that wasn't enough for him.

He also had a thing
for his secretary.

He made a mistake, had a
daughter, whom he disowned.

She's... probably about 30 now.

A struggling journalist

who lives in a
shoebox-sized apartment

and writes under a pseudonym

because her father demanded
she spare him the embarrassment.

Get out of my way.

Quoting a source who isn't sane

could get you sued
for libel or fired.

Although, in this case,
I'd say both are probable.

There's no story here.

- Says who?
- Says me.

Okay.

Thanks.

For confirming that
there is a story. Goodnight.

He contacts you, you contact me.
Got it?

Take my word for it.
Don't play news hero.

Don't.

Dusty, we don't want trouble.

Too late.

Robinson just wants to talk.

Let us take you to him. You two
can work out your differences.

Good plan.

The FBI shows up at my
door and tries to intimidate me

because this mentally unstable
guy contacted me?

Maybe he's not
so crazy after all.

You sure he's a Fed?

The whole thing smells
a tad unusual.

Do you... do you want me
to check it out?

No, I got it.

Okay.

But you might want to start
adding some actual detail

because right now,
the only story

you're writing is in your head.

Are you implying that
I'm the crazy one?

No. You're the eager one.

Listen, if there is a story
to be found here,

you'll need to take note
of the obvious

and then scrutinize what the
obvious obscures

like an ultra-violet light

illuminating what the
naked eye can't see.

But if you do find something,
tread lightly.

You've got a call.

Just a minute.

It's your secret admirer.

This is Mira.

Government,
even in its best state,

is but a necessary evil.

In its worst state,
it's an intolerable evil.

Now you might think
these words were said

last night on a podcast
or a news program

about today's state of
the world, but you'd be wrong.

Those words were written by
Thomas Paine in 1776.

Move! Go, go, go!

Hey!

We got him.

Sir, you need to slow down.

I promise you,
this is a bad idea.

Enough, Dusty!

- Time to come in.
- Just like that?

After you sent those two
shitheads to kill me?

What? I didn't send anyone
to do anything to you.

What shitheads?

You can't bullshit me!

You're slipping.

You're losing your edge.

It's not too late.

I can help you come back with
dignity. Get your life back.

I'm done with that life.

You can't run far enough.

They'll find you,
cut you off at the knees.

Whatever you're
telling this journalist,

they'll call it treason.

- That's 30 to life.
- I can live with that.

No. You're not
thinking straight.

It was all part of the job.
You just got in too deep.

Well, deep enough
to see the truth.

We're killing
innocent civilians.

People that are
trying to make a difference!

- Who's we?
- The Bureau.

And you know this how?

Because I was one of the agents
ordered to do the killing.

Innocent civilians?
Under whose orders?

Robinson's.

That's a serious accusation.

I'm going to prove it.

Listen, I wanna hear
all about it.

Dusty. Dusty!

Ah!

What just happened?

Do you know who those men were?

No, do... do you?

What did Dusty say to you?

Uh, he... he was bringing...

Bringing you what?
What was he bringing you?

This is all my fault.

Mira, look at me.
Tell me what it was.

Documents.

What kind of documents?

His orders.

Proof.

Something on your mind?

It's a sad day, no doubt.

Well, let's be honest.

The kid had a few
too many loose screws.

Or he had a bright future,
until something...

or someone
pushed him too far.

Still don't know
who those two men were?

No. At this point,
we still don't know.

He was one of the good guys.

He didn't deserve
to die like that.

Well, unfortunately for him,
you got distracted.

If you'd done your job,

we wouldn't be wearing
these suits today.

It's tragic,
but now it's finished.

Let's point our focus back
where it needs to be.

Plenty more souls to save.

Yeah.

What are you watching, grandpa?

Oh, nothing, sweetie.

Hey, you and Lambie
should be in bed.

I can't sleep.

Uh-huh? Come here.

Attagirl.

Thinking about your big play?

Everything okay?

I think I'm worried about you.

Me? You sound like your mother.

There's nothing to worry about.

Well...

You know...
some people live

their entire lives thinking
they're doing the right thing...

even if it means doing
whatever is proper...

to make sure the good guys
always win.

But then, one day
you wake up and realize...

you're not sure who the
good guys are anymore.

Which makes you wonder...

have I been doing
the right thing?

Am I a good guy?

Grandpa?

Are you a good guy?

I wanna be.

You're not doing anywhere
worthwhile here.

Go home.

Take a couple of days.

Mira.

Home. Go.

- Mira.
- Oh, hey.

Are... are you following me?

No.

But I did wanna come see you.

How're you holding up?

- Not so good.
- Yeah.

You, uh, you like whiskey?

This everything Dusty told you?

That's it.

What's this "Operation U?"

Unity. Operation Unity.

Did he say what its mission is?

These are picked up.

Are you being followed?

Maybe.

Long story short, he was a
deep cover agent in Miami.

Got sniffy with the cocaine
he was tracking.

When I found him, he was
in the Everglades,

wrestling an alligator
for sport.

Interesting friend.

Not a friend. Debtor.

- For?
- Saving his life.

How long you been doing that?

Oh, probably too long.

What's with the three thing?

I have thoughts looping inside
my head, repeating themselves.

If I do something three times,

I can usually
suppress the thought.

Obsessive compulsive.

Sometimes the obsessing makes me
better at what I do.

Other times...

Other times, I feel like I
should be locked away.

What happened to you?

I... screwed up.

I served one tour in Vietnam.
I wasn't even 20.

April 1975.

It was the night before
we pulled out

all our troops and went home.

I was on patrol duty
with Robinson...

Director of the FBI?

The younger version, yes.

We were talking about everything
we would do when we got home.

Then we turned a corner
into a dark alley,

and there was this man
about to...

rape a local woman.

It was hard to see,
but it was obvious

he was roughing her up
pretty bad.

I called out,
and he turned towards us

with what I thought was a gun.

So... I shot him.

Kill him?

Yeah.

Then what happened?

The woman ran off.

Robinson and I
went up to the guy.

He was face down in a
puddle of his own blood.

The gun was a bottle of whiskey.

Robinson flipped him over.

He was our Commanding Officer.

I panicked.
Robinson didn't.

I can still hear his voice
like it was that night.

"Walk away. Walk away."

So I did.

Robinson joined the FBI,
we lost touch.

Then about 15 years went by,
and the phone rang.

He'd just been promoted.

Asked if I would work directly
for him, off the books.

Said it was his job
to protect the Bureau

and mine to protect its agents.

Off the books,
that gives him

plausible deniability for
anything you did.

In hindsight, I suspect
I made a poor career choice.

When you take orders for a
living, trying to support

a family, you learn not to
question those orders...

regardless of the
moral implications

or how they may affect
other people's lives.

So, other than
intimidating journalists,

what other kind of
bad stuff do you do?

You name it,
I've probably done it.

Like?

Breaking and entering,
extortion.

Occasional physical coercion.

Murder?

That's not on my menu.

And for the record, I changed
my name not for my father

and his family, but out
of respect for my mother.

He fired her three months
after I was born.

She raised me all on her own

and never once asked him
for anything.

When I was old enough,
I changed my name to hers.

I stand corrected.

So, Mr. Block... what now?

Where did you come from?

What's Operation Unity?

It's nothing that concerns you.

You know, I've always
respected my position

in our arrangement...
but in this case,

I prefer to be the one
who decides what concerns me.

Unity. The truth, Gabe.

It's not your place to know.

Or even ask.

So Dusty was right. You are
killing innocent people.

You're running your own
secret program, Operation Unity.

And when Dusty tried to go
public with it...

you had him killed.

Oh, please.

We are not having this
conversation.

Oh, yes, we are.

You need to come clean, Gabe.

You're confused about
our relationship.

You work for me.
You are my weapon.

After all these years,
that's all I am to you?

Jesus.

Oh, you have a
short memory, Travis.

It was me who plucked you
from your aimless life

and turned you
into something special.

But don't forget, I also have a
detailed record

of every law you've ever broken.

Everything I did was for you!

I would suggest you show me
a little gratitude

if you and your granddaughter
want anything

that resembles a normal life.

Count me out, Gabriel.

Oh, no, no, Travis.

There is no out for you.

We are in this to the end.

When does it end?

When I say it does.

No. My end is now. Right now.

Good boy, Little Man. Stay.

Stay.

Stay... Uh-uh! Stay.

Okay, get it.

Hey, Pearl, what's news?

Your story's
getting some play.

What do you mean?
I didn't write it.

Ah, check the site.

Needs a bit of polish, but your
word choices are delightful.

Who knew that "dollop"
could be a verb?

- I know. I was just...
- Go!

- I was just in the middle of...
- Go!

- Mira.
- That was my lead.

You've been comatose
and I didn't want

the story to get
scooped up by another outlet.

That's horseshit.

You sent me home
so you could steal my story.

I did not.

And besides,
you're too close to it.

Too close?

The only thing I'm too close to

is punching you in the face.

Please don't.

Stay away from my story.

Whatever.

There's no real facts.

It's hardly even a story.

Okay, okay, I'm sorry.

What do you mean,
she's not coming over?

I'm making dinner
for her right now.

Do you even
know what today was?

What was today?

Her school play
that you promised you'd come to.

Shit.

I'm not so sure that I
should let her stay with you

when you're not even
responsible enough

to show up for the easy stuff.

I've... I've had a lot of things
on my mind.

But apparently, Natalie
wasn't one of them.

Okay, I... I deserve that.

Yeah. You do.

I'm... I'm coming over.

No.

I want to apologize to her
personally.

No, you and
your paranoia

can't get
out of your own way.

I'm not having you turn
Natalie into an

insecure, screwed up kid.

You need to take care
of yourself, dad.

Wait, Amanda. Amanda!

I'm not having you turn
Natalie into an...

I'm not having you turn Natalie
into an insecure...

I'm not having you turn
Natalie into an

insecure, screwed up kid.

Hey, you've reached Mira.

You know what to do.

Hi, Mira, it's me, Drew.
Just leaving the office now.

Just wanted to say I'm a shit
for jumping your story.

Hope you're feeling better.

Um, I've got to go.

You can't be serious.

911,
what's your emergency?

Yeah, I'm being chased
on the I-66.

Oh, come on, really?

Come on!

You okay, Drew?

I don't... don't know.

Just wanted to
say I'm a shit

for jumping your story.

Hope you're feeling better.

Ah, I've got to go.

See what I mean?
You can hear it in his voice.

- Something happened.
- Yeah.

No, I hear you and see the dots
you're connecting, and, yes,

that conclusion makes a lot of
sense right now, but...

suggesting that the head of the
FBI had Drew killed

because he printed a story?

- Sounds crazy, right?
- Right.

Yeah.

Listen, honey, we're all
heartbroken, okay?

But the reality is, this is
probably just a bad accident,

or road rage or I... I don't know
whatever it might have been.

But honestly, at this point,
sitting here playing detective,

it is not going to
solve anything

including a conspiracy theory.

Operation Unity.
That's what Dusty called it.

That could mean anything.

Dusty said that the FBI was

crossing the line,
killing innocent civilians.

His words.

And that he was coming to me
with his story

because of my articles
about Sofia Flores.

I'm not following.

Sofia Flores was an
innocent civilian

killed in an accidental
hit-and-run, unless...

unless it wasn't an accident.

So you think she was murdered
by the FBI

and that is what crossed
Dusty's line?

Maybe.

If what
you're saying is true,

with the way the world
is right now,

this could wipe out the
FBI's highest ranks.

As it should.

You do realize
if your dots are correct

and we play this wrong,
we could both end up like Sofia.

And Dusty. And maybe Drew.

Still wanna pursue it?

We're sorry.

The number you have reached
is not in service.

Please check the...

We're sorry. The number you have
reached is not in service.

Sorry... Not in service...

Please check the number
or try again.

The number... Try again.

I'm sorry, Mr. Block,

but your granddaughter no longer
goes to school here.

Since when?

A few days ago.

Did her mother say
where they were moving?

- No.
- But her school records...

They had to be
forwarded somewhere.

No, no one asked.

I'm not sure what happened.

I mean, usually we're given
plenty of notice...

When did Amanda
quit the hospital?

Amanda quit the hospital.
Amanda quit the hospital.

No, no, no, everything's fine.

Everything's fine.
Everything's fine.

When did you last hear
from Natalie?

Natalie. Natalie.

Natalie. No, no.

Amanda. Amanda. Amanda.

When did my daughter
quit the hospital?

Amanda. Amanda. When did
you last hear from Natalie?

Any idea where they might be?

Any idea
where they might be?

So, no idea
where they might be.

If fingers
need to be pointed,

we know where to point them.

Who is it?

- It's me.
- Oh, God!

It's okay, it's just Pearl.

Thought I'd cheer you up.

Dinner?

What am I looking at?

Dusty Crane's rap sheet
I pulled off the police wire.

And?

Now we know he was an
undercover Federal agent,

so this shouldn't
have been in the

National Crime's main system.

To protect his identity.

- Which means it's fake.
- It's fake.

The only reason to do that would
be to spread misinformation

in order to discredit him
as a potential source.

So someone like me
doesn't write his story.

Okay, I could buy that.

But who?

- Travis.
- What did you do?

Senses return?

You ready to get back
in the saddle?

Where's my family?

How the hell would I know?

If I find out you had anything

to do with Amanda and my
granddaughter disappearing,

you're gonna need more men.

I don't have a clue what
you're going on about.

Now I know you've got a lot

swirling around that
skull of yours,

but it doesn't have
to be this way.

We always had
each other's back, remember?

Now, let's go to the office
and talk about saving souls.

I've told you before.
No. It's over.

That's your decision.

That's the wrong decision,
but yours.

Excuse me.

Last chance. Where are they?

We're the FBI.

We don't involve ourselves
in petty domestic disputes.

He touches the car again,
shoot him.

The great J. Edgar Hoover once
said, in a public forum no less,

that the purpose of
counter-intelligence action

is to disrupt and it is
immaterial whether facts exist

to substantiate the charge.

If I were to say that in
public today, I can just imagine

the media backlash that would
wash me out of this office.

- It wouldn't be pretty, sir.
- No.

Nowadays, this country is ruled
by gotcha moments on Twitter.

But that doesn't mean
it's still not the truth.

Hoover had COINTELPRO,
and I have Operation Unity.

And as unpopular as
what we do may sound,

History tells us that
spilling a little blood

is absolutely necessary
to maintain law and order.

Now, either Crane didn't
understand that, or didn't care.

And now look at the mess
he's making me clean up.

What's worse is, he's infected
someone... dear to me.

Block.

Been a good friend, family,

for as long as I can remember.

Sir, I may be
out of line here, but...

would you like us
to have a word with him?

Someone in the FBI created
a false criminal record

for a Federal agent involved in
a secret FBI program.

That fake record was then sent
out on the police wire

so that the media
would ignore him.

Drew obviously didn't.

And now that agent
and Drew are both dead.

Interesting.

Almost.

We run that, and tomorrow we get
a simple, logical explanation.

We have no proof to refute it.

Or corrupt FBI agents
following us home.

- And then there's that.
- Fine.

You want more proof,
I'll just call the FBI

and ask for an interview with
the asshole that killed Dusty.

Mira, I know this is
frustrating,

but what we need is
an actual living person

who can help tell the story.

Someone with specifics who can
help fill in the basics.

The who, the what, the when.
And if we're lucky, the why.

The why is obvious.

Obvious to you
isn't good enough.

Listen, if we are dealing
with a corrupt head of the FBI,

they will cover up the cover up
with another cover up

and they'll spin it as
some top secret

national security operation
that hides

behind the
veil of need-to-know.

The American people
need to know the truth.

That's what
I used to think.

And you don't anymore?

Honestly, undecided.

Sometimes I think
it's better to live

in the happiness of the unknown.

The United States government is

murdering its own
innocent citizens.

Yeah.

That is messed up.

We need to nail these assholes.

Nothing? Nothing?

No forwarding address?
No phone records?

Would you be able to pull

school enrollment records
for Natalie Block?

Check the entire country.

Actually, Sam, one more thing.

Search all informants
who recently entered

Witness Protection.

They may have changed
their last names,

but they would have kept
their first.

Amanda and Natalie.

Okay. Hey... hey, Sam.

Let's keep this between us.

Do this for me,
consider us even.

Thanks, Sam.

Block.

Oh, yeah, uh, Mira.

Listen, uh, now's not
a good time.

What do you have?

Robinson's very capable

when it comes
to cleaning up his messes.

I would say this has his
fingerprints all over it.

I need a quote
from a reliable source.

I'm the last person
you want as a source.

But you know it's wrong.

I know what I know,
but my hands are dirty.

You put my name out there,
my credibility,

it'll come into question.

Even my sanity.

They'll say I made the
whole thing up,

all in the name of
protecting myself.

Probably wind up like Dusty.

I still don't understand
why Robinson

would go to all these lengths.

Same reason Hoover did it
for almost 50 years.

To maintain power, control,

which will give him a
shelf life that'll outlast

every politician on Capitol Hill
and in the White House.

You can't let them
get away with this.

I mean, this is your chance
to right all your wrongs.

What's done is done.
There's no going backwards.

Then let's go forward
and prevent Robinson

from abusing his power
in the future.

If we don't stand up to him,

he'll just keep growing
Operation Unity.

He probably will.

Remember, it's your job
to protect the agents.

How many more Dusty's
have to die for you

to stop looking the other way?

As long as I've worked
for Robinson,

I've... I've never heard
of Operation Unity.

Somebody must know.

These sort of people
don't talk out of turn.

Maybe, but secrets
this big can't hide forever.

Robinson has a safe in his house

where he keeps a
record of everyone

and everything
the Bureau touches.

- Everything?
- Everything.

It's his security blanket,

ammunition in case anyone
decides to turn against him.

If there's a paper trail on
Operation Unity, it's in there.

What do you mean,
he blew up your car?

Block shot it
with a grenade launcher.

I must never
underestimate that man.

Where is the crazy
son-of-a-bitch now?

Don't know.

Well, I do.

He's here.

- Here as in?
- As in, my front door.

If you're not too busy,
you might wanna stop by.

Wasn't expecting you.

Got a minute?

- You sent them. Right.
- I sent who?

You know, if you were
just honest with me,

I'd have more respect for you.

I take it this isn't
a friendly pop in.

What the hell do you want?

All your files
on Operation Unity.

I'm afraid that's not happening.

It's not a request, Gabriel.

This is a huge mistake.

I'll add it to my list.
Open it.

Or what?

Are you really gonna
shoot me, Travis?

Yes, I will.

The hard drive.

I need to see what's on it.

Load it up.

Step aside.

The world isn't ready
to see what's on that drive.

The truth can be difficult,

but it's better than
the alternative.

You two, take the back.

I recommend you walk away.

This is not your fight.

You were just taking orders.

Robinson's using you.

The way he used me.

We're just bullets
in his chamber.

Enough is enough!

Ah.

Travis.

- Who are you?
- Uh...

This is Pearl.
She works with me.

Please don't shoot her.

Can we trust her with this?

We can.

Donuts? Really?

It... it was all I could
find in this dump.

So, Robinson hid
Amanda and Natalie

in Witness Protection?

But no idea where they are?

Uh-huh, okay.

Thanks, Sam.

Yeah. Appreciate you looking.

Using your family as leverage
against you is so effing wrong.

Sorry to say.

Seems relatively minor compared
to everything else he's doing.

Character assassinations,
political blackmail.

Looks like flat out murder.

All under the guise
of protecting democracy.

What does it say
about Dusty Crane?

Looks like you've got
everything you'd ever

want to know about him.

Oh, there's a video.

Play it.

Dustin Crane, Special Agent.

Your mission?

You know that.
It's deep infill.

Have you maintained
contact with the target?

Yes, the target's name
is Sofia Flores.

How often
is your exposure?

Every day,
at least

a few hours a day,
sometimes longer.

How have you
been able to maintain that

level of contact with
an unsuspecting target?

She, uh, she thinks
I'm her boyfriend.

And?

Are you her boyfriend?

I'd like to think so.

How long has
this been going on?

A little over a year now.

And she has
no idea who you really are?

No, no. No, she doesn't.

You can see
it in his face.

They were in love.

I feel sick.

What are you doing?
You're going the wrong way.

You knew Dusty Crane was
in love with Sofia Flores.

Travis!

You got nervous he might
come clean to her.

The thought that someone
with her influence

might find out what you were
up to scared you.

You slippery shit.

Pull the damn car over.

That's why you killed her,
and then him.

To protect your
secret operation.

You know nothing.

Listen carefully.

Operation Unity is going public.
The whole thing.

- Bullshit.
- You need to listen.

Not to you, I don't.

How about now?

Our arrangement never happened.

You're going to destroy my file

and forget everything
I've done for you.

After that, you will go public

with the truth
about the operation.

I am the director of the most

powerful organization
in the world.

I will not bargain with you.

Then call it coercion.

If I'm not being convincing
enough, there are other ways.

Ahh!

Fine. We'll do it your way.

I'll clean your record.

But there is no chance in hell
I am admitting to anything,

and if I hear a whisper
of Operation Unity in the press,

you'll be indicted
before the day is over.

That was the last threat
you will ever make to me.

You wanna put a bullet
in your old friend?

Go ahead.

You'd be doing me a favor.

Please, do it.

Do it!

No.

You're not getting
off that easy.

The truth needs to be told.

And you're gonna be
the one to tell it.

But first, you tell me.
Where's my family?

There she is!

Grandpa!

Hey, come here to me.

You don't need to worry,
nobody's out there.

I've already checked.

Good, and there
probably never will be.

That's just how
my brain is wired.

I know.

I missed you.

- Hi, dad.
- Hey, sweetheart.

Everything okay?

Just never thought we'd
be in Witness Protection.

- Sorry about all that.
- It's alright. We're fine.

I'm just sorry about everything
that you've been through.

- Is everything okay with you?
- Couldn't be better.

- Anybody wanna go home?
- I do!

- I do!
- Me, too.

"Robinson was indicted
after admitting to the existence

of the morally
reprehensible program

he dubbed Operation Unity.

He remains behind bars,
awaiting trial."

Look at these comments.

"Explosive."

"The News Cycle at its finest."

Don't forget this one.

"Award-worthy reporting."

I'm proud of you, Mira.

I saw it.

Well, what do you think?

Very thorough.
I, uh...

I was surprised you didn't
mention my Vietnam mishap.

No use for you being on trial

for something you did
when you were a kid.

Article's good.

Thank you.

For... everything.

I couldn't have
done it without you.

And I wouldn't have done it
without you, so... thank you.

You're welcome.

Take care, Mira.

You too.

Ah, a little help, please.

Run, run, run!
Keep running!

Go! That's a girl.

That's it, keep going.

- Go, go, go, go, go!
- It's flying! It's flying!

Atta girl.

You're pretty good at that.

A bit rusty. Go!

You sure you don't wanna hang
out with us this weekend?

I'm good.

I have a date.

- Good for you.
- Yeah, we'll see.

But if you or Natalie need
anything, just let me know.

Uh-huh. Will do.

And don't forget to feed her.

Make sure she brushes
her teeth, get her to school

on time, Monday morning.

Food, teeth, school.
Consider it done.

Anything else?

No shooting guns.

Uh-huh.

No guns.

Where do you stand
on explosives?

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull