Original subtitles

In my line of work,

it's best not to get close to anyone.

- Hailey. - John. Bingo.

- Is that a camera? - Blackmail will not work.

My marriage was over years ago.

Corporate espionage

is a dirty way to get rich.

I'm not a spy.

Manipulating people to influence markets

is what then?

Consulting.

God, it's so good to see you.

It's been too long, huh?

Yeah, it has.

- It's a simple job. - Why me?

I know I can trust you.

All we need to do is suggest that the Banomar Group

and the Treasury Department investigator are somehow

in bed together-- nothing tawdry,

just a few photographs to squash the investigation.

What was she doing in Valence's neighborhood?

The body of U.S. Treasury investigator

Edward Homm was found in Queens today.

Police already have

the name of a suspect-- John Weir.

What the hell is going on?

I don't know, I'm trying to figure it out.

Well, we got burnt.

Valence fucked us.

Were you in that explosion? What the hell happened?

This was not the plan.

Shut up.

Miles, no, no!

Authorities have identified

a person of interest in the mysterious deaths

of both tech entrepreneur Miles Valence

and Treasury official Edward Homm.

♪ I'm lyin' alone with my head... ♪

Oh, yes, um, uh...

You do it.

It's Señor Wences, right?

"It's all right! It's all right.

It's all right."

Thank you. Right here.

We are boring him to death.

Dad, I finished my food.

Yes, I can see that.

Okay.

John.

Give me...

Route...

...66.

- Oh. - But that's a hard one.

I know, but I think you've got it.

- St. Louis. - Mm-hmm.

Joplin, Missouri.

Oklahoma City. Amarillo.

Gallup, New Mexico. Flagstaff, Arizona?

Don't forget...

Winona, Kingman, Barstow, St. Bernardino?

Yoo-hoo! Well done.

Brilliant. A veritable genius.

Good man.

I'll get that.

Nice job, honey. Good job.

Okay?

Go.

Thanks, cowboy.

Good man.

Hey, honey...

Ben, are you teaching him to smoke?

- We talked about this. - It's only candy.

I did a pack a day when I was his age.

Can you check the phone?

- It's driving me crazy. - The phone?

- What's wrong with the phone? - It's just, it's...

It's clicking. It's not all the time, but...

Which line?

The house?

Mm-hmm. - Are you sure?

I don't hear anything. What kind of clicking?

Well, I don't know. It's just... clicking, you know.

Maybe it's just a bad connection?

Or I don't know.

I'm sure that it's-it's nothing.

Nothing? Clicking is not nothing.

- Nothing is nothing. - Okay.

Judy was trying to call and it just made this funny sound,

- but... - Everything will be great.

Okay, no, no, no, let's just forget it,

- and if it happens... - It's not going to happen again!

Ben, that's not necessary.

Okay, I'll-- I'm gonna call someone,

and it's fine.

Ben.

Sweetie, it's...

No more phones.

What? No, don't be... Ben!

What are you...? Stop. Just stop, stop, stop.

What do you mean "no more phones"? I need a phone.

- Ben! - No more phones.

Ben, please, what are you doing?

Ben! Ben!

- Stop, stop it! - No more phones!

I'm trying to keep you safe.

How is this keeping us safe?

NEWSWOMAN [on radio]: ...still at large,

the whereabouts of John Weir.

Suspect John Weir still in connection

and wanted for two deaths.

While back in Washington...

...a decision...

...on voting rights.

The decision hotly anticipated by members

on both sides of the aisle.

The deadly explosion that rocked

Water Street last night was probably accidental,

as search and rescue efforts continue...

No.

No, no, no.

Make Chloe do it.

What?

Still? Well, wake her up.

Okay, wait, hold on.

Um...

Madi, FBI. Thank you.

Because, because, Danielle, kids need structure.

Especially this one. So just, you know,

bang some pots and pans if you have to.

Well, I got to go.

How many is that?

Hey!

Uh, I've met most of Weir's people.

I can help you ID.

There should be three.

Two males and one female. Um, Madi.

Financial Crimes is that way.

I know Weir extremely well. I can be of value here.

Well, this isn't a financial investigation.

See, you can tell by all the rubble and burnt shit.

Edward Homm was FinCEN at Treasury.

As long as Weir is a suspect in that murder,

then I have a reason to be here.

Is that Morello's opinion or just yours?

Morello will see it my way.

- Okay. - Request is pending.

Well, until Morello does,

- we'll handle it. - Okay, Captain,

is there anything unusual about the scene?

Looks like a gas explosion, and I've seen a few,

but we've got a lot to turn over yet.

Okay, well, that would be a hell of a coincidence.

Hey, would you stop jumping to conclusions?

Even if he was cleaning up loose ends,

we need evidence to support that.

You know that, right? Evidence?

It's in the FBI handbook.

It's one of the early chapters.

Okay, okay, Rasche. It's safe to assume

- that when Weir is involved... - Assuming is what got you

exiled to the white-collar desk.

I like my job, so I'm gonna do it the right way,

if you don't mind.

- And we'll see you later, okay? - Hey, Rasche,

listen to me. I know this guy. Make a hole.

Make a hole. Coming out now. We got one alive!

You're gonna be okay...

NEWSMAN [on TV]: ...wanted in connection

with the death of U.S. Treasury Agent Edward Homm.

The public is urged to contact the authorities

with any information about the suspect and any...

- Hi. - Hi, checking out.

Yes, ma'am.

This is a really, really bad idea.

Hey. You should stay out of this.

John, are you okay? What's going on?

Everything's fucked up.

I'm...

just trying to put it together in my mind right.

I know. I don't understand, but...

Nobody was supposed to die.

What happened?

We really shouldn't be talking.

Yeah, I know, but I just dropped off Sam,

and he's asking questions about that video of you.

He saw it on TV and...

Look, he's scared.

And I don't know what to tell him.

Tell him it's a lie and I don't know where it came from.

And what about Miles?

My God, what happened?

I didn't kill him. He jumped.

He looked me in the eye and he jumped.

Jesus.

He had this stare, like...

calm, like nothing else mattered,

and then he jumped.

But why would he do that?

I... I don't know.

Do you need help, John? I can help.

No, I just need to sort this out.

Right now it doesn't make any sense.

- Nothing makes any sense. - Talk to me.

Okay? You can talk to me.

I will, as soon as I get this sorted out.

No, John,

none of this is okay.

I know.

But I'm gonna make it okay.

Tell Sam not to be scared.

John.

I got to get back to you.

Thanks.

Miss, are you Hailey Marie Winton?

Uh, what can I...? Detective Reins.

Detective Fewkes.

Hailey Marie Winton of Pittsburgh.

- Is that you? - Yes.

Is this about that guy?

We'd like you to come with us

until we can find out more.

Maybe ask some questions.

I knew it.

Uh, yeah, yeah.

Okay.

- Ma'am. - Uh, who are you?

- Oh. - Come this way, please.

Okay.

The car's just right over here.

A Mercedes?

Yeah, it's his personal.

He came straight from home today.

I-I'm sorry. Something's wrong. Just come with us.

- Hey. Let go of my... - Everything's fine.

- Everything's fine. - Hey, let go of me.

- Don't touch me. - Everything's fine.

Hey! Let go of me!

Hey.

Help!

Hey, I'm a fucking lawyer.

This woman is under arrest!

Help!

Where are you taking her?

What's your precinct?

What are the charges?

This woman has done nothing, and they're arresting her.

- What are you doing? Fuck! - I have it all on camera.

Answer him!

I see you.

We see you!

We see you!

Back off! We see you!

We see you!

We see you! - We see you!

We see you!

We can see you!

We see you!

- Are you ready? - For what?

You're ready enough. Gun! Gun!

They're gonna shoot her!

Hey, hey, hey, hey...

Back the fuck up!

Who the fuck were they?

Oh, drop it already.

- Who are you with? - Who am I with?

Who are you with? They were gonna kill me.

- Are you with Arda? - Are you going to kill me?

Why are people trying to kill me?

I'm not gonna kill you, okay? I just want some answers.

What were you doing on 9th Street yesterday?

What, yesterday? I was at my fucking job at a meeting.

Right, the homeless charity thing.

Social justice warrior/lawyer who knows Krav Maga.

- Not suspicious at all. - I don't know Krav Maga.

I just took a class

- to strengthen my core. - Who are you?

I'm nobody. Just let me...

Clearly, whoever is after me is after you.

So why don't you just tell me what the fuck is going on?

Clearly, you are the shady one. You murder people.

I haven't murdered anybody, and clearly I just saved your life,

- so how about some appreciation? - Are you fucking kidding me?!

People are trying to kill me.

Stop!

My entire life has just been blown apart.

Do you understand? People are dead.

My friend just fucked me over

and jumped off a fucking building

in front of my very eyes.

I need to know what's going on and why.

And until I get some answers about how you and those

fucking assholes in the blue Mercedes

are mixed up in all this shit, you're not going anywhere.

You're stuck with me. Got it?

Okay, first off, nobody tells me what to do!

Nobody. You got it? And second of all,

thank you for what you did back there.

The rescue was very clever,

even if it was a little racist.

- Racist? - Using assumptions about

Black people and the police to manipulate the crowd,

it was reductive, and by that measure,

- it was a little racist. - Oh, my God!

- I just saved your life. - Stop talking!

I am processing. I am trying to say,

"I get it. It's okay that you did that."

But... Okay, it's just me.

It's just me. It's how I process. Fight or flight,

which... it's usually fight. Especially when I'm scared.

And I'm fucking scared, man!

Who were those people?

And what have you gotten me into?

I don't have time for this.

Blindfold or trunk?

- What? - I don't want you seeing

where I'm going. Blindfold or trunk?

Fuck you!

Where are you going? Hey! Hey!

I don't, I don't need to go to the hospital, all right?

I-I can go home.

Okay?

My girlfriend's going to freak out.

She hates hospitals.

Don't worry. We're just going to check you out.

Hey.

Uh, Jo Madi.

Uh, we met upstairs in the office.

I know your-- knew your boss.

Yeah. Hi.

Uh, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?

So, um...

Ooh, what happened up there?

It's so hard to remember, it...

Mm. - Um...

I came back from the food run.

It was just, it was really sudden.

Right. I mean, were there other people there?

- Mm-hmm. - And John Weir?

- Where was he? - In his office, I think.

You know, somebody said that they saw someone

who looked like him standing on the street.

He was definitely there.

I mean, I think. I don't know.

I'm just... I don't know if it was really Weir.

So, um...

You were just standing there with everybody and...

- it happened? - Madi!

- Okay, thanks. - Madi!

What'd I tell you?

Okay, listen, Rasche, something is off.

Is this your way of trying to get back in the field?

You crack the big case and all is forgiven?

'Cause it doesn't work like that.

It's weird, Rasche.

I mean, three charred bodies,

and he just gets off with some scratches?

Well, if you were really a part of this case,

you would know that he was found farther

from the epicenter than they were.

Well, you're going to run the DNA

for whoever's in those bags, right?

You are so out of your lane right now.

No, you can't take anything at face value with Weir.

He knows how people think.

He's super smart and he's half crazy.

So that makes him unpredictable.

Yeah, and only you can solve him.

Are you really so desperate

to get back in that, what, you're making shit up

- to feel useful? - No.

No, I'm not. I know this guy, Rasche.

- I'm telling you. - Okay.

Fuck you and your white whale, Madi.

And until Morello signs off,

you don't belong here. Do you understand?

Come on, man. You're not going to use any of my

- expertise in this... - Please. There's your car.

Have yourself a nice day.

You're going to kick me out?

That would be what I'm doing, yes.

What, you're just going to watch me walk to my car?

- I'm waiting. - All right, fine. Fuck you.

You know, you got a big ego, man.

You know what? You have yourself a nice fucking day.

We're going to do real FBI work here.

You go do money FBI. Oh, yeah. Fuck you.

So, no more me?

No more Johnathan? Is that what you want?

Because that is what you're saying.

We can't do this anymore!

I don't expect you to understand

what we're going through, but you

and your mother are going to move away.

I may not see you

for a long while.

Don't blame your mother.

♪ ♪

I am sorry it's come to this.

There's just something I have to do.

Johnathan, it's your turn.

Just take the shovel.

Johnathan, take it.

Just take the shovel.

Johnathan! What are you doing?

No one will ever know this.

That your father died fighting for this country.

Those things in the newspapers,

they aren't true.

He did what he did to keep you and your mother safe.

Fuck! Are you shitting me with this?

I gave you two options. You wouldn't choose one.

So I gave them both.

- Where are we? - Doesn't matter.

We're going to be leaving soon enough.

Come on. Sit up.

It's all right.

You're all right.

Here, let's sit you down.

There.

This is a straight-up murder house.

I don't need you or your commentary right now.

I'm trying to think, and I'm running out of time.

Time for what?

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.

Really?

Okay. I need to know who you really are.

I mean it. So start telling me.

- I told you. - No. You told me about

your other bullshit. Everything checked out.

I need you to tell me what you're not telling me.

You know that sounds crazy, right?

None of this shit happened until I met you.

Explain that.

I've looked at this from every angle.

Okay? Every possible permutation.

And none of this makes sense.

There's absolutely no version of you

- that makes sense to me. - Okay, okay.

I see that you've been through a lot,

that you've lost friends and who knows what else,

and I am sorry for that.

But the way I see it, you brought this down on me.

Not the other way around.

Okay.

The camera in your hotel room tells me one of two things.

You're either working for somebody,

or someone's watching you. Now, for argument's sake,

let's just say you're the victim in all of this,

and someone's watching you. I need to know why and who.

That's your proof that I'm lying?

How do you know it's not some hotel guy

who's getting his rocks off?

How do you know that my naked body,

and maybe even yours, is on the Internet

with Erin Andrews right now?

You're going to need more proof than that.

Okay, fair enough.

It doesn't explain away our online hookup.

You saw my phone. That was you.

I don't use that app. You honestly think

that I would give my personal information

to a company to-to meet a woman?

I mean, I haven't known you that long,

- but you seem pretty lonely. - I don't use the app.

Well, you have an account. Explain that.

I can't.

If you didn't make the account,

someone else did.

Just look up the address they used,

and maybe that'll tell you.

Do you have a computer?

Give me a second.

Okay. You got 15 minutes online.

After that, I got to pull the plug.

That's weird, but okay.

Um, it's not going to take that long.

Okay.

That's your username.

And that is the email that is linked to the account.

Larterland?

Shit.

Oh, you don't have an account,

but now you know your password?

Larter is someone who worked with me.

He uses the same stupid password for everything.

It was them.

Them?

My coworkers.

But why?

Well, just ask them.

I can't.

- I know why. - What?

They probably feel bad for you.

Like, like they thought you were lonely?

No, that's not it.

Ew. Are you some incel guy?

Like sad, sad loner shit?

- Enough. - Yeah. Uh...

If there's one thing I'm more willing to believe

than you being a psycho murderer,

it's that you're, you're a dateless loser

who needs his friends to set him up.

That, that makes perfect sense.

Wow, you are a really funny girl.

Unless lonely has made you crazy,

and you decided to kill some Asian dude

because your dog told you to.

Is that really the most plausible thing

- you can come up with? - Take it from a lawyer.

Trunk, stalker, spooky-ass unheated house? Psycho.

I am not some psychotic killer person, okay?

Seriously? Homm?

Who is that?

What's going on? Who...?

Isn't that the guy you killed?

See, not a psycho.

I saved his life.

Not that he believes me.

My life?

Maybe you're not who I thought you were,

which leads me back to one question.

Yeah, what's that?

Blindfold or trunk?

What the fuck, dude?

I'm sorry, okay? I am sorry.

People don't take to being put in trunks, asshole, okay?

- I'll make a note of it. - Oh, yeah, thanks.

Uh-uh! Do not lay your hands on me.

All right?

A mile and a half up the road, there's a mini-mart.

Believe it or not, there's a pay phone.

Are you trying to tell me something?

I'm letting you go.

Okay? Obviously this was a big mistake,

so I am letting you go.

You're letting me go?

Coincidence is the only version of this

that makes any sense. So, yes,

I'm letting you go, on one condition.

You never saw me, okay?

I've got all of your personal information right here.

I can find you anytime I want. Understand?

You going to cut me loose?

Right.

You know what?

Fuck no.

I'm not going anywhere with someone trying to kill me.

What?

- I'm not going. - Don't get back in there.

It's not safe.

You leave me here, I'm telling the cops everything

about you and the little man in your basement.

You understand that?

I'm a target now, just like you.

So what am I supposed to? I'm supposed to go

out into the world to get myself killed?

You brought this onto me.

You are responsible.

I'm staying with your tweaky, paranoid self.

And it's not Stockholm syndrome, asshole.

Okay? Don't get your hopes up.

It's battlefield triage. I'm a pragmatist.

So start the car. Go ahead, start it,

start it, start it. And we're going back

to your spooky-ass house...

...until I know I'm safe.

Patty Hearst had to be easier than this.

Okay.

Mom.

- Johnathan, I told you... - I don't want to go.

This is my home.

What about my friends? I don't want to move...

No more, please, okay? I understand.

But no more.

- Okay. - What...

What about Dad?

He needs us.

You need to go get him.

We have to leave, sweetheart.

We have to.

Okay.

Could you stop, please? It's really annoying.

Body-focused self-soothing.

You mean a tic?

It's a tic.

What are you soothing?

Hmm. We don't have enough time.

How about you, um, cut these zip ties now?

Still thinking about that.

You got to stop being so paranoid.

Would you please just be quiet for a second?

Why?

You know, there's still room in the trunk.

Oh, go ahead. Try that again. Go ahead.

There he is.

Oh, is that the guy we're after?

Me, not we.

We are in this together now.

- Remember? - You said that. I never said

- anything like that. - Yeah, where am I gonna go?

You need to trust me now.

Trust is a dangerous game.

What kind of bullshit is that?

I don't do trust.

That's no way to live, Weir.

Yeah, right.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry to bother you, but you see that guy over there?

He's my best friend. Um...

It's his birthday and I wanted to surprise him.

Wondering if you could help me out.

Promise you that it's gonna make

a big difference to your bottom line.

To all of us. Thank you very much.

Gentlemen, do you guys know what you're going to order?

Thank you very much. So...

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God! I am so sorry, sir.

- It's all right. It's okay. - I am so, so, so sorry.

- It's just a, just a $700 shirt. - Oh, my God.

- I'm so sorry. - It's okay. Gentlemen,

if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back.

Thank you. Excuse me. Excuse me.

Goddamn it.

That's gonna need a stain pen.

Jesus Christ. Weir.

Why am I the target?

Weir, you can't be here.

My entire team is dead,

Valence is dead, and I'm all over the news?

What the fuck do you know about it?!

I-I don't know shit, all right?

Valence looped me out of everything.

- He liked it that way. - Right before he jumped,

he received an email saying, "Do it now." Who sent it?

- Who sent it?! - I don't know!

I don't know, I swear to God.

Well, you're gonna help me figure it out.

I can't do that.

All of his comms are encrypted.

I don't have that kind of access.

Bullshit.

I did everything I was hired to do.

Valence paid me to keep my team in the dark, I did it.

When he paid me to kill Homm, I did it.

Problem solved.

You were paid to not get caught,

- not get seen on camera. - Fuck off, you moron.

I wasn't caught. I was set up!

How do I access Valence's comms data?

Weir, you can't be here, okay?

I'm not going to say a word, but you got to fucking go.

- We got to put distance. - Why did they want Homm dead?

- Don't ask me that. - Well, who ordered the contract?

Who's the client?

These people, if they knew you were here...

- Who? - Please.

These people are dangerous, okay?

They're not the kinds you want to cross.

Neither am I.

They won't kill you if I go to the police

and tell them everything I know, right?

Trust me, you're going to give me a name.

And so help me God, I will know if you're lying.

Fuck.

Please don't make me, 'cause he'll know if I...

No one else is here!

- He's everywhere. - Good.

Then it should be simple. Tell me how to find him.

I don't know. I've never seen him.

Nobody's seen him.

Oh.

Last chance.

How do I access Valence's comms data?

You don't. Only he could.

Without his password and his authenticator,

there's no getting in, okay?

Five wrong tries, the whole server just

bleaches itself. It's impossible.

Please. Let me worry about that.

Where's the authenticator?

That's what I'm trying to tell you.

It was in his pocket when he jumped.

It's fucking gone.

This is the moment where you forget you saw me.

All right.

One earpiece communicator.

One gun. One wallet.

One key fob.

Babe,

why won't you listen to me?

I'm okay. It's fine.

You should come back to my place.

Hey, you don't have anything here.

I can cook for you.

I'm fine.

I'm good, okay?

Imagine if yesterday morning was the last time

we ever saw each other.

Stop worrying.

All right?

Who's that?

It's... my boss.

I got to do some, some...

After what just happened?

Seriously?

I'm fine. I'm fine.

All right?

Just go home. I'll be there soon, okay?

- Promise? - Mm-hmm.

Do you really think

you're going to walk in there

and just get whatever it is you want to get?

Is this you looking at every angle and permutation?

'Cause I can tell you right now,

every one of them ends with you getting busted.

Hands, please.

Come on.

Oh, my...

Is this, is this really necessary?

I'm afraid... so.

The brain associates

and organizes information according to context.

So if you change the context of any given situation,

you can change how you're perceived.

So what?

The last thing they expect is a wanted man

to walk into a police station.

So they're not going to notice?

Something like that.

Except this is going to require a few more cues.

- See ya. - Well...

What is happening?

He's shopping?

No.

Wow.

Yeah, I'm just about to pass through security. Hold on.

Thanks. Still there?

Just give him the message. Nope.

Look, I hear you, but you're not hearing me.

I can't testify at three cases on the same day

in different buildings. It's physically impossible.

Yo! Open the door.

- He needs to know I'm here. - Yeah, I understand,

but that's on the D.A. Not me.

I'll call you back.

- Yo, buzz the door. - Hold on, will you?

No. You tell her to hold on and buzz the door.

He needs to know I'm here. Just go back there.

Hey, you holding me up? - Come on, guys!

You make me clock in late,

I'm going to get my desk sergeant down here,

stick his fist up your ass and use you like a puppet.

- Now open the fucking door. - Fucking kidding me?

- Open the door! - Come on!

All right. All right.

Thank you very much. No, no, no.

You need to listen to me. This is a matter

- of life and death. - You need to listen.

Midtown West. - Investigations.

Hold.

Investigations. - I'd like to speak

to the lead investigator of the Valence case.

Please hold.

Connecting you with Detective Singh.

Thank you.

Yeah? This is Singh.

Uh, hi, I-I...

I work near the building where that guy was thrown out of,

and I was having lunch and I think I might have

found something you'd be interested in.

Oh, yeah? What's that?

Oh, well, it's hard to explain.

I was hoping I could just show it to you.

I'm out here in your lobby.

Oh. Great.

I'll be right there. What's your name?

Billy. Billy Jacks. I'm in a brown jacket.

Okay, I'll be right there.

Thank you.

Shit.

Skateboard.

Here you go.

Is there a Mr. Jacks here?

Billy Jacks?

- Here you go. - Hey, thanks, buddy.

Sucks to hear Singh transferred out.

- She was cute. - Yeah, I heard.

- Thanks again. - No problem.

Jesus.

Why did you carry a gun?

Bingo.

Hey!

You want your Post-it?

Yeah. Thanks, buddy.

Is there a Mr. Jacks here?

Billy?

Billy Jacks?

Mr. Jacks?

No.

- Oh! [chuckles] Sorry. - I'm so sorry.

Stop!

Whoa!

Shit.

- Who the fuck is that? - You.

Come on.

What's going on?

Oh, my God.

Who does that?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Oh!

Get-- get up!

Told you I'd get it.

All right, what the fuck is going on?

Dad? Dad!

♪ ♪

Hey.

What's wrong?

It's just us.

You're okay.

He's not talking, so I'm going

to start cutting his fingers off.

Oh, you're really messing this one up, John.

Nice to see you, too, Dad.

Who the fuck is this?