All language subtitles for Fbi.S05E08.GGEZ.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Okay, you're all set, Clay.

Just need your John Hancock.

All right. Copy that.

Ah, Next stop, Windy City.

How are the kiddos?

Eating me out of house and home.

That's why I took the graveyard shift.

- Need the cash.
- Yeah, you and me both.

Yo, I'll catch you on the flip side.

- Take care.
- All right.

What the hell?

Get out of the truck!

- Get out of the truck!
- Come on, you heard him.

Come down out of there.
Let's go. Come on!

- Just wait a minute, just...
- Hey, hey, hey.

Don't talk. Unlock the trailer.

Hurry up!

Quit wasting time!

Look... look, I'm trying, man.

I told you to hurry up!

I'm trying.

Do it!

All right, come on.

Let's get the stuff and get out of here.

Open it up.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.MY-SUBS.com

What are we looking at?

Seems like a
straightforward semi jacking.

Rent-a-cop found the truck and
the dead body around 2:00 a.m.

We ID him yet?

Clay Parker, 47.

Long-haul trucker
for Great Lakes Freight.

Company's based out of Chicago.

Interstate commerce.

Exactly.

- Anything taken?
- Off the corpse? No.

Guy still had 200 bucks in his wallet.

As for the cargo, shipping manifest

says we're missing exactly
20 half-drum barrels

of ammonium nitrate.

That's roughly 4,000 pounds
of fertilizer.

That's not good.

You got something?

Maybe.

Looks like a through-and-through.

The caliber looks pretty big.

You guys get that over to Ballistics?

Anything else? Any witnesses?

Only the guy who called it in.

And the robbers were long gone
by the time he got here.

Hopefully this camera
will give us what we need.

All right, folks. Here we go.

Sometime before 2:00 a.m.
this morning, a semi truck

gets jacked outside
the Port of Red Hook,

and the driver, Clay Parker,
is killed with a...

what was it? 50-caliber Desert Eagle.

And 4,000 pounds
of ammonium nitrate is stolen,

which, unless our perps
are a pair of deranged farmers,

is really only used for one thing.

- Bombs.
- That's right.

It was the key ingredient in
Oklahoma City. So let's dig in.

Elise, how we doing
with that footage Scola found?

Yeah, just finished the pre-scrub.

All right. Eyes up!

Guy tried to be a hero.

Or he knew these guys meant business,

given what he was hauling.

Then let's not let his death be in vain.

Facial rec is out of the question.

Ian, what about height and weight?

According to the math right now,

robber on the left is 6'2".

Killer on the right is 5'10".
Both roughly 175.

There's nothing remarkable
about the clothes.

Just plain black hoodies.

Elise, how are we doing with
the plate on the cargo van?

Digits come back to a blue Chevy Blazer,

which are the same cold plates
used in that robbery

last Sunday over in Woodbridge...

the one we connected
to the Norsemen Brotherhood.

Wait, isn't that the group that
Maggie's trying to infiltrate?

Kelly, give us the vitals
on the Norsemen Brotherhood

and their leader, Eric Ward.

The Norsemen Brotherhood is
a group on the FBI Watch List

that thinks America is
changing "too fast."

According to current intel,

we think their leader
in New York, Eric Ward,

stole blasting caps and TNT
from a rock quarry last week,

presumably to build pipe bombs.

Plus, he's a physical match
to the robber on the left,

the one that wrestles with Clay Parker

before the other guy shoots him dead.

All right. Call OA.

Have him loop Maggie in.

The quarry robbery may have
only been the beginning.

Right.

Hey, Deke. How's it going?

Hey. Good as ever.

- Yeah.
- Is he shooting .38s?

Uh, your brother?

Yeah, it sounds like it.

What's with the John Wayne special?

It's a present for my nephew's birthday.

Kid's the only person I know
who thinks I'm cooler than Eric.

Well, him and me.

- Heh.
- Can I see it?

Oh, yeah.

- Damn.
- Right?

Mm-hmm.

You kind of look like a poster.

Do I?

Mm-hmm.

I think you're the best uncle.

- I got to get some more ammo.
- Cool.

Hey, when's that competition?

Six weeks from now. I know.

- Can I get you anything?
- I'm good.

Hey.

You know, you don't have to pretend

to like every warm-blooded
poser who shoots here.

Oh, come on. Deke's sweet.

I mean, he's stuck
in his brother's shadow,

- but he's harmless.
- Sure.

If you like empty talk
about the revolution.

Need a re-up?

Yeah, a couple boxes of 9-millimeter.

Yeah.

You okay?

My brother's been having a hard time.

Uh, can you hold the bay open for me?

I'm just gonna make a call quickly.

- Yeah.
- Thanks.

Sorry I pulled you out.

- What's going on?
- Remember how we thought

that guy Eric Ward
was building pipe bombs?

Yeah.

Turns out it might be way worse.

Someone matching his description

just stole 4,000 pounds
of ammonium nitrate

from a terminal near
Red Hook last night.

- Whoa, that is a lot...
- Lot of fertilizer.

Plus, the blasting caps and the TNT that

we think Eric already has,
we could be looking

at another Oklahoma City situation.

How long to turn the
ammonium nitrate into ANFO?

Our bomb techs are thinking 48 hours.

Which 12 have already passed.

Who's the second person in this pic?

The JOC does not know for sure,

and we're not certain that
that's Eric Ward, but...

Eric Ward is the most capable
of executing a hate crime.

The clock is ticking.
We need to hit the gas.

Okay. What are you thinking?

Eric works out of his house,
his basement, right?

Yeah, how would we get access to that?

Deke, his brother.

He's been talking about
a party Eric's gonna throw

for his nephew later today.

I'm gonna get myself an invite,
and I'm gonna plant some bugs.

Wow.

What were you going for?

You just trying to scare it to death?

Wha... seriously?
That's 20 yards with a pistol.

Oh, I didn't realize that
you were in the business

of making excuses.

Oh, okay, then,

Miss Western Indiana
Regional Shooting Champ.

Looked you up on the internet,
Maggie Jones.

Think you can do better?

100%.

I'll bet on that.

Okay.

Name it.

Okay.

If I don't put five bull's eyes
in a row, dead center mass,

I'll pay for your crew's
whole shooting session today.

All right, and if you do hit
five in a row?

You can invite me to that party today.

Well, that sounds like a win-win.

Yeah, I'll see you at 5:00.

Yeah, you will.

- Video check?
- Yes.

Video and audio are good.
Please be safe.

- Hey, Deke.
- Hey.

- Welcome to, uh, real life.
- Yeah.

I can't believe how many
of you guys have found women

- who will put up with you.
- Oh, yeah.

Some of us, anyway Oh, come on.

You're a catch.

- Here's a gift.
- Thank you.

- Not for you.
- Ha, ha.

I'll throw it on the table.
You want a beer?

Yes.

Rock on.

- Hey, Deke.
- Mm-hmm?

- We need to talk.
- What, now?

It's for your brother.

Now.

All good. I can get it.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Here you go.
- Thanks.

Mm-hmm. Cheers.

Cheers.

Welcome to the land of braggadocio.

Not your scene, huh?

No, it's just, a lot of these guys,

if they actually did a tenth
of what they claim,

they'd be in the Hall of Fame.

Right.

So then what are you doing here?

I mean, I'm assuming
attendance wasn't mandatory.

You're wrong. It was.

Yeah, see, my wife
is Eric's wife's cousin.

Okay.

So, yeah, that's how all these guys

started using the gun range.

Disengage, Maggie.

This is your chance to get
inside while Deke is occupied.

Do you know where the bathroom is?

It's gonna be through the hall,
first door on the left.

Thank you.

All right, I'm gonna go
for the beer sign.

Smart.

The black metal ought to blend.

How's that?

Feed's up. Well done.

Get out of there.

Hey, I need a hand downstairs, come on.

- Somebody's coming.
- Hide.

Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.

None of this is rocket science.

Neighborhood's changing for the worse.

If you won't do it,
find someone who will.

Yeah. All right.

Help me with the beer.

What the hell was that?

Relax. It's just the radiator.

Come on.

That was close.

You okay?

Yeah.

Okay. Let's go. Come on.

Hold on.

Maggie, what are you doing?

There's fertilizer all over it.

That does look like the hoodie

that one of the shooters was wearing.

I need you to hurry, please.

Okay.

Get the evidence bag ready.
I'm coming out.

Chemical signature
checks out... it's AN.

Okay, people. Listen up.

Analysis is back on the sweatshirt

Maggie swiped from the party.

It is definitely ammonium nitrate,

which means practically speaking,

we are barking up the
right tree with Eric Ward,

but legally speaking, it's not enough.

So how do we tie him
to the fertilizer theft,

and, more importantly,
how do we find the bomb

these patriots are trying to build?

Ian, how are we doing with
those two bugs Maggie planted?

Nothing yet.

I think I might have found
something else that's relevant, boss.

What are we looking at, Kelly?

I've been digging into Eric's
financials over the past 24 hours.

- All quiet on the western front.
- Good book.

I'm sensing there's a "but" coming.

But this morning, he dropped
a quarter of his life savings

to charter a plane to Canada tomorrow.

He could be building an alibi.

Or more likely, given what we suspect

of Eric's hands-on approach
to crime in the past...

It's his escape route
after blowing the bomb.

Which means the bomb is in play.

We're running out of time.

- I'll call Maggie and OA.
- Yeah.

What time does the flight take off?

It's, uh, 6:00 a.m. tomorrow.

Okay. Passenger manifest?

Yeah, listed as cargo.

Let's grab Eric and grill him.

No, you read his rap sheet.
He doesn't talk to anyone.

Plus, there's other people involved.

Look, we grab Eric,
he lawyers up, we're nowhere.

Or worse, his accomplice

sets off the bomb earlier than planned.

So you want to keep
working him from your side?

Absolutely.

Okay, but the harder you push,

the more likely you're gonna
blow your cover, Maggie.

My proximity to Eric
is the best play we've got.

Let's use it.

Okay. How?

I'll put a tracker on his truck.

I'm guessing he's
either gonna visit the bomb

or the target
before that plane takes off.

Let's do it. Be careful.

Walking towards the van now.

I got you. Be careful.

What's taking so long?

I... I... I can't get it to stick.

Okay, there should be a metal bar

to the left of the gas tank.

Hey, you have company.

- Hey.
- Hey.

The hell you doing down there?
Dropped my phone.

Just making a phone call.

All the way out here?

Oh.

Yeah, bit of a personal issue.

I didn't want anybody to hear.

Mm.

What happened to you
at the party yesterday?

You just disappeared.

I know.

I'm sorry. I ended up...

What's going on here?

Because it sure as hell looks
like you're crowding my truck.

Nothing.

Just talking about the party yesterday.

Well, maybe next time
you do it away from my truck.

I got to run a few errands.

Okay.

All right, I'm gonna meet you inside.

Gotta call my brother.

Yeah. I know all about brothers.

OA, I wasn't able to plant the tracker.

You gotta follow him now.

He's about 30 seconds out
from your position.

Yeah, I know.

I will do my best.
Headed to the Tahoe now.

Maggie, you're sure if I leave now,

it's not gonna leave you exposed?

Yes, yes. Go.

We need to find out where he's going.

The tracker operation's busted.

OA is following Eric Ward,

heading south from Arlene and Roman.

So we need every available
Staten Island unit

to assist with the moving surveillance.

- I'm on it.
- When support rolls in,

I need someone to take the eye

so I can get back to Maggie at the range

- as soon as possible.
- Okay.

Tiff and Scola are already on their way.

Jubal, I think we might be made.

But did... did he make you?

Yep, I'm sure. We're made.

Out of the car, Eric!

Hands!

Get out. Now!

What's the problem, officer?

How about 4,000 of missing
fertilizer, for starters?

Let's get him back to 26 Fed.

So is this the part where
you tell me why I'm here?

I think you already know
the answer to that, don't you?

Where were you Thursday night
between midnight and 2:00 a.m.?

I was home with my family.

What's this?

Two guys killed a semi driver,

and this guy right here

has your same height and your build.

Same as that guy who stole
six blasting caps

from the rock quarry last week.

He also had a tattoo on his
right hand, just like you do.

I know a lot of dudes with this tattoo.

In the Norsemen Brotherhood, right?

So let's just cut the crap.

We've got a black hoodie
with ammonium nitrate

- and your DNA on it.
- How?

Who's the other guy in this video, Eric?

Where's the bomb?

I got no idea what you're talking about.

Really? Then why did you run,
if you're not guilty?

Why'd you blow through
those two red lights?

Wait a second here, Miss...

Agent.

Sure.

Are you charging me
with a traffic violation?

Because I'm pretty certain
that's not what the FBI does...

just like I'm certain that
it's not hate to want

the street signs in the
neighborhood you grew up in

to be written in English.

So I think I'd like
to talk to my lawyer now.

Okay.

What are you thinking?

He's guilty as hell,
but all we have on him

is a flimsy concealed-carry bust

and a possession of a black hoodie,

which won't take him forever
to trace back to Maggie.

Well, we can't hold him past today...

Unless we find that bomb,

and we are running out of time. Wait.

Kelly and Ian
might have found something.

All right, fellas. What do you got?

Hey, this is the historical GPS data

Ian pulled from Eric's truck.

17 addresses, most of them innocuous.

But Eric did make
three separate trips this week

to the same spot in the
South Staten Island woods

down near the Arthur Kill Penitentiary.

What's the red marker?

That's the exact latitude
and longitude of Eric's visits,

and the only sign of civilization

in the entire radius
is this abandoned farm.

It's a good, off-the-grid
place to build a bomb.

Yeah. Okay. Who lives there?

Uh, no one, as far as I can tell.

And according to every
property record I can find,

the land is owned by a
shell corp, Loyalist 76 LLC.

All right, why don't you guys
head out there?

I'll have SWAT
and the bomb techs meet you.

Outbuildings look empty.

I've got one warm body in the barn.

Copy that.

Also, Scola, I've got yellow diesel cans

on my side of the barn.

All right, alpha team. We go on my mark.

In three, two, one.

What the hell is that?

It's a perimeter alarm. All agents, go!

Stop! FBI!

Damn it!

Jubal, we need air support
in South Staten Island.

Our suspect is on a black
dirt bike, model unknown.

He's using the woods as cover.

Hey, we need to set up
a grid search in the woods

in case he decides to lay low
and not hit the highway, okay?

Will do.

All right, guys, listen up.

We need every inch of this place swept,

photographed, and logged, okay?

Anything that might give us a clue

into this bomb's location,
bag it and tag it.

- Hey, Anna?
- Yes, sir?

Let's get a photograph
of these tire tracks

while they're still fresh, all right?

I'm on it.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Any luck with the motorcycle guy?

I sent the SWAT team
in a grid search of the woods,

just in case, but...

Yeah, it's pretty easy to slip the net

- with that much cover.
- Yeah. What about here?

Bomb techs found cell phone parts

and det-cord scraps at the workbench.

Also a bunch of peroxide wipes.

Seems like the guy just
finished wiping down the scene.

So he was covering his tracks.

Seems that way to me, Tiff.

Which means...

The bomb's been built,
and it's now in the wind.

All right, folks. Listen up.

That massive fertilizer bomb
we're chasing

has now been flushed into the wild.

And we still have no clue where
it's headed or who built it.

What we do have is a
medium-height white guy

on a black bike.

So I'll take ideas.

We just got the first report
from the bomb lab back.

It looks like, based on the
cell phone parts ERT recovered,

the device will
likely have a remote trigger.

Which suggests a highly
sophisticated bomb,

more sophisticated than
anyone at the Brotherhood

profiles as capable of making.

Hey, guys, I think
I might have found something...

or, rather, someone.

Uh, this is a half a mile
from the bomb maker's property.

It's not perfect evidence, but I don't
know what else he'd be doing there.

Wait, is that...

Nick Foster...
the owner of the gun range.

All right, so the possible new player

on the chessboard is Nick Foster.

Let's talk about him. What do we know?

Well, uh, for one thing, we are certain

that he's not Norsemen Brotherhood.

Doesn't have the Viking tattoos

or a spot on the national roster.

Yeah, and according to Maggie,

Nick thinks most of the Norsemen
Brotherhood are idiots.

Right, but what if Nick
thinks they're idiots

because they don't take
their hate seriously enough?

Maybe he's an "actions speak
louder than words" kind of guy.

Well, it would explain his
partnering up with Eric Ward.

And we know their wives are cousins.

Right, so let's take it
through that lens.

How does Nick profile if we assume

he's not so squeaky clean?

Well, he's 5'10", 170,

which makes him a dead solid build match

for Eric's partner in the theft,

the actual murderer of Clay Parker.

And according to Nick's army files,

he showed a remarkable
aptitude for explosives

at OCS back in '03,

even though he trained
as a tank commander.

He's not just involved.
Nick is the bomb maker.

Call Maggie and OA now.

You know, you got to exhale
before you pull the trigger.

All right. See you tomorrow.

Hey, OA.

I've been waiting
for your call for hours.

What's up with Eric Ward?

He's in the box, but he's not talking.

Maggie, I don't know
how to tell you this.

We think that Nick Foster is involved.

Nick? How is he involved?

The JOC has video
that puts him near the barn

where the bomb was built.

He's a match for the guy
that killed Clay Parker,

and he also has bomb-building expertise

from his time in the army.

What do you want me to do?

Well, right now, he is in the wind,

so can you look around the range,

see if you can find anything
that can give us a clue

where he is, where he's going?

N... no.
He doesn't even have a proper office.

Plus, it just seems like
he has everything on his phone.

If he's in the wind, I... I don't...

OA, he just pulled up.

- He's here.
- What?

Why would he be coming back
to the range?

I don't know.

- Do we arrest him?
- No, no, no, we can't.

The JOC said that
we were supposed to track

his movements until we find the bomb,

but it's too close
to closing time, Maggie.

You got to get the hell out of there.

Or I could stay.

And do what?

It's getting a little
suspicious how much time

you are spending at the range, right?

You don't have to prove anything.

No, I'm not proving anything.

There's a bomb out there,
and until we know where it is,

I'm gonna ride this thing out.

Hey.

Hey.

Everyone else gone for the day?

Yeah, Randy and Bruce just left.

Um, would you mind
if I actually stick around?

You know, squeeze off a few
more rounds after closing?

The competition's coming up quick.

Yeah, sure. That's fine, I guess.

Uh, you haven't seen Eric Ward

in the last few hours, have you?

Not since this morning. Why?

Well, he was supposed to
help me move some furniture,

and I ended up having to do it myself.

And there wasn't anyone strange

hanging around the gun range today?

No, not that I can think of.

What... what's going on?

It's nothing. Yeah.

Oh, hey, uh, why don't you come with me

to Bailey's and grab a beer?

- What, right now?
- Yeah.

Yeah, it seems like
you got plenty of training in,

and I kind of feel like socializing...

at least for a few hours, anyways.

Okay, uh, yeah.

Yeah, cool. Let me just grab my jacket.

Be out in a sec.

_

That's too dangerous.

_

Jubal, guys, you sure
we can't arrest this guy?

No, we have enough
for a sneak-and-peek warrant,

and that is it.

Yeah, and even if we arrest him,

the odds of him cooperating are slim.

Then all we have is 4,000
pounds of missing explosives.

With no idea when or where
it's gonna go off.

I get that, but trying to
steal his phone is too risky.

OA, I get it. You're worried.

But chances are Nick's
taking her to a public place

so he can build out his alibi.

Now, if Maggie thinks that
she can get us that phone,

that's good enough for me.

Now, Scola and Ian will
meet you there at Bailey's.

All right, talk about the parking lot

- and make the switch.
- All right.

This guy is packing
serious heat in his waistband,

and he keeps checking
his phone every two minutes.

Please stay alert.

We're good.

Thank you.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

To quiet people who get things done.

Nice.

My dad used to say it all the time.

It's like a Midwestern thing.

Your father sounds like a good man.

He is.

He's actually the one
who taught me to shoot.

Oh, come on, man.
I'm sorry to bother you guys.

You don't happen to know who's
driving this Explorer out here, do you?

The guy boxed me in.

Yeah, yeah. No, man.

Sorry.

Thanks anyway, brother.

Yeah.

- That sucks.
- Yeah.

- Okay.
- Did you get it?

Got it.

All right.

How's our girl doing in there?

Still doing all right.

And you think that's New York?

Yeah, for better or worse, I do.

I mean, think about it.

Dating back to George Washington,

this has always been where real America

has always made its stand.

You're an interesting lady, Maggie.

I was also very good at bar games.

Hey, can we please get, um...

- Let me check something.
- A couple quarters

and a shot glass?

Thank you, perfect.

- What the... hey, hey, hey.
- What?

What is this?

That's my phone.

Okay, so where's mine?

I don't know.

I don't have it.

I mean, maybe you left it at the bar?

How long have you been
shooting at my range?

- I don't...
- How long exactly?

Like, a week and a half.

- Okay, why are you grilling me?
- Okay.

You have three seconds to tell me

who you work for, Maggie.

- I don't work for anyone.
- Three.

I don't know why you're grilling me.

- Two.
- What is this about?

- One.
- Nick Foster, FBI!

- Hands up.
- Put 'em up!

- Get what you need?
- Yeah.

Took Ian a minute,

but Nick's phone was a gold mine.

Deke Ward has the bomb,
and he's headed to a fundraiser

- in Port Richmond.
- How much time do we have?

We have about an hour till the
bomb's supposed to explode.

All right, listen up.

According to the intel
on Nick Foster's phone,

we now know the target
is a charity fundraiser

for refugee resettlement,
Advanced Light Gardens,

in Port Richmond.

And we also know that
the bomb is being delivered

by Eric Ward's brother Deke.

Now, the good news is,
Maggie and OA are set up

with the tactical team to
intercept Deke in Port Richmond.

The bad news is,
even though he is en route,

we do not know what kind
of car Deke is driving,

so let's dig in, work that problem.

Okay, well, just stating
the obvious here,

we're looking for something
that can handle the payload.

So at 4,000 pounds of fertilizer

plus diesel fuel and barrel weight,

we're talking a 1-ton pickup
or a delivery van.

We've also got the tire tracks
we found in the bomber's barn.

Tread report says they're
run-flat, 245/75R16s,

which, in the heavy-duty cargo class,

only currently comes standard
on the GMC Savana.

Now we're talking.

Plus, if you're coming up
from South Staten Island,

you basically got to take the
West Shore Expressway, right?

Okay. Can we scrub for a GMC Savana?

I'm already on it.

Wait.

Check this out.

Okay, okay, is that...

yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, that's him.

That's Deke at mile marker 17
in a blue GMC cargo van.

How old is this video?

It was taken three minutes ago.

Puts him roughly two minutes
out from Maggie and OA.

JOC says Deke's making the turn.

Cruisers are on standby
ready to box him in.

There he is.

Let's go stop a bomb.

Get out of the car, Deke!

Now!

This is the remote trigger.

Take it easy.

So get back.

Hey, hey.

Deke, Deke.

It's me.

You're FBI?

Don't do this.

- You lying piece of...
- Hey, hey, hey, I...

I am here to help you.

Tell me what you want.

I want to get the hell
out of the country.

That's what I want, all right?

It means I need a car or a plane.

Okay. We can make that happen.

I'm gonna have to make
some phone calls, though.

And if anyone tries to
evacuate the apartment complex

or takes a step closer, we all die.

You understand?

So get back!

- Get back.
- Okay. Okay.

Okay, law enforcement, stay back!

I need law enforcement to stay back.

Give this man his space.

10-10, all operators
fall back, fall back.

I understand. Thank you.

That was the engineer of the
Hazardous Devices School.

Based on payload modeling, he says that

there could be at least 500 people

within the potential blast radius.

Okay, can we sneak people out
the back stairwell of the apartment?

I mean, if we're careful,
but only a couple at a time.

- That's Maggie.
- All right. Throw it up.

Hey. What's the situation on the ground?

Deke is in the van.
Snipers are in position.

We are just waiting for the
green light to take the shot.

Hold on a second.
I think I can talk him down.

Maggie, what makes you say that?

I know what makes him tick.

Okay, with all due respect,
Maggie, that's ridiculous.

You heard his threat.

Anyone approaches the van,
he's gonna blow the bomb, okay?

I think our snipers
should take the shot.

Well, that comes with risks as well.

Exactly.

OA, this isn't some guy
with a 9-millimeter

holding hostages in a bank.

He's got 4,000 pounds of explosives.

Our sniper misses him
by 1/16 of an inch,

Deke puts his thumb
on that trigger, we're dead.

- I like my odds better.
- So what are you gonna do?

You want to stroll across
that clearing, unprotected?

No, I want to do my job
and save a bunch of lives.

Keep the snipers on standby for now.

Maggie, we're gonna do it your way.

What the...

Back off! You see this? Huh?

- Deke.
- Get back!

Get the hell back.

Get out of the van so we can talk.

Get out of here, Maggie... now!

Please, just get out of the van.

Come on.

I know who you are and who you're not.

You don't know anything about me.

That's not true.

I know you don't think
your brother respects you,

and now you're out here, you know,

trying to prove that you're
strong by doing some brave act.

Is it worth it, Deke,
now that you're here?

Is it worth dying over?

Come on.

Look, as bad as the situation is,

you have a chance
to walk it back right now.

I need you to get out of the
van and hand me the trigger.

No.

I need that plane. Where are we on that?

I'm working on it, but I'm telling you,

your best move is to surrender.

Please.

Let's move.

Look.

You haven't killed anyone...

not yet.

You're just a delivery man.

But if the delivery doesn't make it,
and the bomb never explodes...

You're clear.

Please.

I just wanted... ow!

Let's go. Let's see your hands.

I just wanted to show them
that I could do it, you know?

I know.

You did the right thing.

Yeah.

You still look like a poster
in your FBI vest.

Do I?

Hey.

How'd it go with Deke?

He agreed to cooperate.

He's gonna flip on his brother?

Yeah.

I guess they gave him a good deal.
He bit.

That's not why I came back here, though.

I think we need to talk.

Talk about what?

Us and this dynamic.

I could tell you were
getting a little agitated,

but I was just feeling like you were

taking unnecessary chances,
like you were

- overcompensating.
- Mm-hmm, okay.

I know that I've been gone for a while.

I wasn't trying to prove
anything out there today.

I'm just being me.

I'm doing my job.
I'm relying on my instincts.

And I was doing my job,

trying to be a good partner to you.

Yes, by protecting me and making sure

that I don't get hurt.

I... I appreciate that.

I do.

But it's going too far.

Too far?

What's going too far
was almost losing you

behind that glass,
when I couldn't do my job,

when I couldn't help you, Maggie.

And I don't...

that's what went too far.

You blame yourself for what
happened in the sarin lab?

Of course I blame myself
for what happened.

Hey.

That wasn't your fault.

You didn't do anything wrong.

Then whose fault was it?

Nobody's.

That's the job.

It's the risk we take.

We make a really great team.

Can we get back to that?

I'd like that.

Let's get a drink.