Original subtitles

Multiple protests around the country

as the Shared Data Act meets resistance on Capitol Hill.

You want to stop the Data Act?

Then we need to show up.

We should kill that Kyle kid.

He could be working for Crowley.

And he might just be an innocent FBI informant.

Who are you?!

All the political donations and PACs

that Intaverse Media gives money to are publicly available.

I looked at the executive level donations.

They only ever contributed to one politician

on a regular basis... Senator Nora Evers of New Jersey.

- Cover your ears! - What?

What did I miss?

You're missing the most obvious version.

- That Valence sold us out. - Stop saying that!

He knew where all the safe houses were.

He didn't do it.

- This was not the plan. - Shut up!

Miles, no!

It was you.

You were the last person to talk to Valence.

Why the fuck didn't you tell me?

If I told you that,

I would have had to tell you everything else.

What else is there to tell?

Your team... They're dead, all of 'em.

Truth is,

our democracy works no different

than any of these shitholes we traffic in.

Are we really going to have this conversation right now?

Yeah! Look at this. We've been grooming this guy

- for months, Ben. - I told them no heroin.

But they don't listen.

We find our sap to kill El Comrade Generalissimo.

We break him, program him, rebuild him.

- Hold on. - Blood, sweat and tears.

- It's hard, right? - Yeah.

Then the day before the hit, this shit happens.

We'll figure something else out.

Yeah. I'm sorry, Langley.

No president this year.

What does any of this have to do with democracy?

Oh, stop it, will you? Please. How many times...

Araña talks the talk we feed him,

but how long before he figures out

how things really work and then sells out?

He'll control all the wealth and resources

this country has to offer.

At the end of the day, the only thing

you need to ask yourself is,

"Why are we giving control to men like him

when we could be selling it to the highest bidder instead?"

Or, hell, taking it for ourselves.

You're fucking crazy.

Time for change.

What about this one?

Because safety has a price.

Security takes a huge toll.

And those who say they prize privacy over all things,

I have to ask... What do you have to hide?

Evers' staunch support of the Shared Data Act

was thought to be a weakness for her campaign,

as the bill has struggled its way through the Senate.

The public is wary of the plan, so the question now is

if her inexplicable surge in the race can continue.

Once the clear front-runner, the former

vice president abruptly abandoned his campaign today.

A field full of contenders has dwindled

to just a few after yet another candidate has dropped out

for unspecified personal reasons.

Are you tired of living in fear?

The Data Act isn't about privacy.

It's about eliminating fear

and making this the safest

and most powerful democracy in the world.

Johnathan?

Are you okay?

I'm thinking maybe I should just go ahead

and do your part of this.

No, no. We stick to the plan.

No, you killed the plan.

All right.

I'm sorry.

Okay?

I'm sorry. I must have said it a thousand times.

No, actually, this is the first time you've said it.

Doesn't matter. I just want to be done with this.

And then what?

Johnathan?

It matters to me what you think of me.

You really must have been something back in the day.

Problem is I just don't believe you anymore.

She's coming your way, Ben.

Oh, people, you have to move.

Can't be here. Please, please. All right.

Um, this is her. The rest of the motorcade got delayed.

What the fuck? The senator's already running late.

They should have been here ten minutes ago.

- How's this even happening? - Oh,

well, you know, a madwoman out front

caused a bit of a traffic jam.

But we're working on getting your people here

as fast as possible.

Oh...

What the fuck, Lanneman? Is this Billy?

Yes, ma'am. We're just waiting.

Yeah, I'm not waiting. You wait for the others.

I'll see you all at 6:00.

Billy, tell me we have more wine.

Who the fuck are you?

I just want to talk. Don't be afraid.

Who said anything about being afraid?

The money loops

through every anonymous financial entity

on the planet.

Someone has been illegally feeding millions of dollars

to you and your campaign, and we can prove it.

Come on, Senator.

You want the White House, go get it.

All I want... The man pulling the strings.

- No. - Excuse me?

This is enough to take you down.

Enough?

Enough?

What you have... it'll dominate one news cycle, sure.

Hurt my chances? Maybe.

I have to stay a senator for a more few years,

then try again? Boo-hoo.

It's nothing compared to what they have on me.

One day, they send a car for me.

I'm blindfolded, taken to a location.

I'm shown a safety deposit box with a briefcase inside.

It's a metal one, right out of the movies.

And inside are materials.

Hugely compromising materials.

Let's just say that if that gets out,

anyone who's got my last name...

They're gonna change it to something else.

I hear his gravelly voice in my sleep.

And I regret ever playing ball with him.

But there's no way I'm gonna help you.

If we helped you get your case back, would you help us?

Yes, but it's not gonna happen.

I was blindfolded.

I know the number of the box.

I have no idea where the vault is.

You said you were picked up from where?

- 3rd and D. - Surface streets or highways?

Do you think you left the city?

Surface. I assumed that I was still in the city.

I heard a food cart nearby.

It was 1550 Girard.

Let me guess, it smelled like chicken and garlic

and it was a Tuesday.

1550 Girard is an ultra-secure

private depository used by shady rich people.

Uh, cartels, tax cheats, criminals, money launderers.

It's kind of famous in my world.

Arif's Shawarma is there on Tuesdays.

Well?

Can you do it, Weir?

You obviously have a very talented team.

Mr. Heston, welcome to 1550 Girard.

Ronald Kolgin. So sorry to keep you waiting.

Not a problem.

And will you be joining Mr. Heston

on the tour of the facility today, Mister...

You agreed to a chaperone?

Store-brand G.I. Joe over there?

- It got handled. - What were you thinking?

- I should have been there. - I told you, it got done.

You didn't think I can go on tour and take notes?

- Didn't have a choice. - There's always a choice.

You don't get to say that to me now.

We handled it. Get over it.

No one's talking to you.

He's really gonna fuck us. You realize that?

I could say the same thing about you.

Whatever's in that briefcase is too valuable

to trust to you criminals.

It doesn't leave my sight.

And you're gonna protect it like you did your boss lady? Yes?

Respect me, Grandpa.

I'm the only one here who knows the box number,

so you don't have a choice.

He is definitely gonna fuck us.

No one is getting fucked.

The senator's gonna get what she wants,

she's gonna give us Crowley, and then it's done.

What's he got on her?

You can tell me. Pee-pee tapes?

Oh. Scheisße tapes. Pew.

So, what's my part?

- Nothing. - What?

I don't want anyone getting hurt.

You're cutting me out?

You and Homm are in the van.

John, you can't do this on your own.

Well, I'd love to call my team and get some help,

but someone got them killed.

You and Homm... in the fucking van.

Uh, that go for me, too?

No. You're with me.

The client has to sign into their system,

enter their box number.

Once they've been verified,

they're given a specific route to the vault.

That's because the entire place is covered

in infrared motion sensors. You get an escort.

As long as you stick to the prescribed route,

none of the alarms get activated.

But if you don't...

And our state-of-the-art...

Sorry. My-my bad.

...the entire place goes immediately into lockdown.

That's okay. CP-1. Accidental trigger.

Reset.

Wow. Interesting system.

The best.

We have something for you in the 800 section,

as per your request.

Thank you. Eight's my lucky number.

Now, by the time you finally get to the vault,

it's old school.

Takes two keys to open the door to access the box.

The clients and the escorts.

Three, two, one. Turn.

To avoid diving

deep into the minutia, the simple version:

we walk in with an identical case to the one in the vault,

distract the escort, switch the cases out,

and walk out the front door.

Is that all?

How-how are you gonna get the keys?

Well, I'll have to pick one lock

and then I'll use a copy of the master key

for the other one.

A copy? How are you gonna do that?

Already did.

You'll have your own key,

and your escort will hold on

to the master.

It's actually not that hard.

Scale a photo, trace it to a blank, cut the key.

Slick.

But you still haven't told me what...

- what you want me to do. - Well,

given a large percentage

of their clientele is morally questionable,

in order to use their facility,

we have to make a $20 million deposit

in escrow for the duration of our visit.

Oh. No.

- No. No! - You'll get it right back.

You think you can just use my money?

Hailey, it's not your money.

It's absolutely my money.

Oh, my God. Are you serious? We're gonna be long gone

before they even realize that they've been robbed, okay?

So as soon as I'm out, I promise

I will give it right back to you.

If you get out. What if it goes wrong?

It's not gonna go wrong.

I know how their system works, and more importantly,

I know how their people work. It's gonna be fine.

It's gonna be fine.

Oh, fuck.

I know I've talked about Edward Homm before.

But to quote the Dude, "New shit has come to light."

Remember this guy... The one wanted for killing Homm?

- Mm-hmm. - That's John Weir.

Most wanted guy on the eastern seaboard.

Well, my deep state contact, Zaius, hipped me

to a news story about a shootout

in Upstate New York at a motel just a few days ago.

Wasn't a ton of good video. See?

But Zaius said the government processed it

and said it was this Weir guy.

Now my boy Benzo here's pretty good with the Photoshop.

He did a little up-rezzing, little sharpening.

Look what he came up with.

Check it.

- Same profile, right? - Mm-hmm.

Same hair? Convincing?

Now look here.

There's an old guy with him and a lady,

but who's this here?

He could be Asian, right?

- Word. - Right?

Is that Edward Homm?

I don't know.

But Zaius also said, "Call the morgue."

And guess what? It turns out

Ed's so-called body was accidentally cremated

before it could be DNA-tested.

Are you shitting me? I mean,

you think this shit's some kind of a coincidence?

So, look, here's what I think. I think Ed is not dead.

I think Ed stumbled onto something really big,

and had to go underground to...

This is not good, right?

What?

I said this-this probably isn't very good, right?

Well, he's a lunatic. Nobody listens to him.

He's got 23,000 hits.

How's your wound?

Uh, it's gonna scar for sure.

How's yours?

Just part of the job, right?

We're not blood brothers or anything.

Okay.

You think Shaw really has, uh,

an informant in the government?

Sure. Same guy who shot the moon landing

in that studio in Area 51.

It doesn't matter.

They think we're in Upstate New York.

Okay.

I'm telling you Ed is not dead.

He's got 31,000 hits.

Ed is not dead.

Yeah, he's also got a pretty cool street food blog.

Sick. Yeah. Bet you didn't know that, huh?

Phones in the Faraday bags.

They don't come out until the job is over.

NSA's not the only one parsing metadata.

I need you, I call you on that, and you answer.

One unauthorized ping in the system,

I send in The Janitor and his bone saw.

Yes, sir. So, what's the job?

You're going out of town.

Open.

Hey.

I need you to load in your crypto wallet info,

make a transfer.

How's this for what-ifs?

What if, uh,

this whole thing...

Everything that has happened

up until now...

The bar,

the hotel, the safe houses,

Crowley, everything...

What if all of it

is engineered to...

to get me to this very moment?

All of it created to make me give you

all of my money?

I mean...

it's what you do, right?

Yeah.

- All I got is your word. - Mm-hmm.

Pretty ironic, huh?

That's all I've got to give right now.

Fuck it. I'll do it.

Thank you.

You should get some sleep.

Yeah, I know.

Just-just... close your eyes.

Okay.

You know, we got a few thousand square feet here

if you want to find your own space.

I told you I'm not taking my eyes off you.

I'm good right here.

Awesome.

You think he's trying to reach Valence?

Maybe he had a back channel going.

He hasn't slept in a couple days,

but emailing a dead friend

is a level beyond exhaustion.

No. He's-he's just not thinking clearly.

I mean, it happens sometimes.

He calls it "going down the hole."

He needs help.

- Psychological help? - Eventually, yeah, but

right now, I just...

I just mean he needs me.

I should be with him on this op.

I'll keep an eye on him tomorrow.

You're going and I'm not? Huh.

And he thinks I'm the one who's gonna hurt somebody?

And he's trying to contact a dead man.

Did he tell you the plan?

Hmm?

What is it?

I'm worried about him, too, you know.

But if there's a problem with this plan,

you don't have the experience to see it,

much less Evers' body man.

And he'll cross you, both of you.

This is what I do.

I can help.

I see what you're doing there.

Using your reverse psychology or whatever.

Playing on my empathy.

I am not playing.

He's my son.

Mm-hmm.

Good night.

The Shared Data Act is just

another way they dehumanize us.

We are like

these flesh and blood puppets,

and they've got their hands up our asses

and they're pulling the strings,

while we work and we work

and they kill the planet.

We kill for them!

And all the while, it's their shit

and blood-covered hands pulling the strings.

Yes!

Then they pull it out, they shake the blood in our face

and leave us in a heap on the floor.

I'm not okay with that.

Are you okay with that?

So what do we say?

Take back your life! Take back your life!

And now what do we do?

- Kill your master! - Kill your master!

Kill your master! Kill your master!

Yeah!

Kill your master!

Kill your master! Kill your master!

Baby, are-are you really going to?

Of course I am. Are you out now?

- Just make up your mind. - Oh, baby, come on.

I mean, I just...

Baby, I've never done anything like this.

Well, you can help me, like you said,

or you can get out of my way.

Okay?

Look, I need to do this for me. Okay? I-I... I just...

I can't live like this anymore, you know.

I just want my life back.

I want to help you, baby. Really, really...

Baby, I do. I do, baby.

Ky. Kyle. Kyle, stop.

Stop. Just, I want to help you, baby.

Really, just... Just, baby, just stay.

Just stay.

You know, just fucking forget it!

Okay? I'll just do it myself.

I shouldn't have even told you.

Just forget you know anything about me.

- Okay? - No, no, wait, baby, just...

Kyle. Kyle. Kyle!

No, just wait, just...

Okay, I'll help you!

Just-just... just don't leave me.

Ky... Don't leave me.

Don't leave me!

- Hey. - Kyle.

- Kyle. Kyle. - It's okay. It's all right.

Today's the day.

Lanneman and I will go in first,

take possession of our new box, make a deposit.

With $20 million in escrow, we can sign in,

at which point we will be escorted to the vault.

You'll come in after us, take a tour as a potential client.

By that time, we should be in the vault.

Lanneman will distract the escort and make the switch.

- Which one? - 844.

None of which can be possible

until the alarm system's been defeated.

And that's gonna be your job.

Wait, what? I...

I... How am I gonna do that?

I don't know alarms, computers, any of that.

- You don't have to. - I don't?

The weakest element to any system

is always gonna be the human element.

All you need is this.

A pen?

An infrared laser pointer.

- Oh. - Invisible to the naked eye.

Oh... my God.

So sorry to keep you waiting.

Are you ready for your tour?

1550 Girard is the country's

preeminent private sequestering facility.

We pride ourselves on both our discretion

and our state-of-the-art security.

- What is this? - W-Why

- is the door closing? - It's okay. It's okay.

He suffers from PTSD.

- Claustrophobic. - Jesus.

You'll be all right.

CP-7. Sensor error. Reset.

I'm so sorry.

That has only happened once before...

CP-7. Sensor error. Reset.

Oh, Jesus. Open the door.

Can we ask them if they could open the doors as quickly

as possible, please?

Great.

My deepest apologies, ma'am. I can assure you that

that has never...

Oh, come on.

I-I... I should probably

take my valuables to Eatonhurst like I...

Oh, one moment. Uh, if you could literally

bear with us for one minute,

we'll reboot the system and everything will be fine.

Kolgin. F Protocol. Hard reboot the system.

Authorization GMRC-781.

- Open the door. - Kolgin. Repeat,

- hard reboot. - Open the doors!

- Sir, you can't do that. - Oh, the hell I can't.

- Open the doors. - Initiating.

All doors will remain shut

until all sensors and cameras are back online.

It'll be less than a minute, sir. Please.

I was locked in a box in Iraq,

and I'll be goddamned they do it to me again!

No one is gonna lock you up.

We don't want the smoke alarms triggered

- as well, sir... - You're not gonna lock me up!

Open the doors!

They killed

everyone else in my unit.

Shot 'em in the head. They killed my whole team!

Open the doors!

18 seconds.

15 seconds.

- It'll just be 15 seconds. - I...

I heard, thank you.

- Open the door! - Take it easy!

- Take it easy? - Nine.

- You don't understand. - Seven,

- I almost died in that box! - Six, five...

They killed everyone else in my unit.

Sir, please, take it easy.

Back online. All systems nominal.

I'm very sorry. We should just lock up.

I've never seen him react like that.

Three, two, one.

Uh, apologies.

All better now. It won't happen again.

- Does this happen often? - No.

But better the alarms are overly sensitive than not enough.

- Should we see the vault? - Hailey, we got to go.

- Wait. What? - I fucked up.

I left a key in Crowley's box. We've got to get out of here

before they discover it.

Miss Wolcott. The vault?

Hailey, we got to go.

Let's get you checked out.

Miss Wolcott, should we go see

the vault?

Okay. Let's see this vault.

Is there a problem?

One second.

You will receive your, uh, own key,

and your escort will

hold on to the master.

Walking through the opening protocol.

You, uh, can choose a box

or one will be chosen for you.

- Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. - For fuck sakes.

Sorry.

CP-7 sensor error. Reset.

- Reset. Reset! - Resetting.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

I didn't mean to curse, but you really need to be more careful.

Your, uh, pen.

I've got it.

Well?

Like clockwork.

- Where's Weir? - Right behind me.

Thank you for your patience. You're good to go, Mr. Heston.

Thank you.

Hell of a performance.

Well done.

Thank you.

By the way, do you know Pete?

Who's Pete?

That's Pete. Give him the briefcase.

Oh, shit.

Fuck. I knew it.

I knew it. I knew it.

I told you this was going to happen.

- Calm down. It's fine. - You okay?

Yeah.

The briefcase you walked in with was a decoy, right?

You gave Lanneman the decoy,

you put the real one back in your box.

Guess I should go back in and get it.

Hey.

Thought you might want to look in on your money.

You got to hand it to me, Weir.

That was black-belt level,

110% trust on my part.

Pretty fucking impressive, if you ask me.

Yes, it was. And thank you.

You saved my ass back there.

'Cause I screwed up, and...

I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for you.

And I put you in a position you should never have been in,

and if something had happened to you,

I would never have forgiven myself. So, I'm...

I-I'm sorry. Honestly, I...

I don't know what happened.

You showed that you're an actual human being,

capable of fucking up.

And asking for help.

And apologizing.

Hmm.

What?

I want to kiss you.

Yeah.

A friend once told me...

...everybody's a sucker for confidence.

Senator?

Oh, you're fucking good, Weir.

I guess you own me now.

- What is it I can do for you? - Same rules as before.

You give us everything we need

to find our guy, you get your case back.

Meet at 3:00 p.m. sharp. I'll text you the address.

Damn, I'd love to see her face right now.

- Yes, sir. - Are you in position?

- Almost. - Well, hurry up.

Every second matters in this game.

The master dies today.

Bring the car around.

You ready?

Ready, baby.

John? John, phone.

Thanks.

Senator.

We're gonna be a little bit late.

Why? I said 3:00 p.m. sharp.

My people... they added a stump speech.

- That is not a good idea. - Oh,

don't be dramatic.

I'll be there.

Senator!

Senator!

Senator?

Senator? Goddamn it!

Got him in my sights.

Do it.

The fuck just happened?

MPD has recovered a gun

and the shooter remains at large.

Now, we've received footage from the scene.

View discretion is strongly advised.

- Oh, my God. - In related news,

the Senate majority leader has called

for an immediate vote on the Shared Data Act.

The bill Senator Evers herself was championing.

The once troubled legislation will be brought

to the floor as soon as possible,

and the polls are showing strong bipartisan support.

Goddamn it!

- Crowley. - Yeah.

Why would Crowley kill his own candidate?

'Cause this wasn't about winning the presidency.

This was about passing a piece of legislation

that the senator campaigned on.

All he had to do was have her assassinated.

Reshape the narrative.

Bright young senator cut down in her prime

by the radicals she promised to protect us from.

Turn her into a martyr, guaranteeing

that her legislation would pass.

When that happens,

Crowley gains access to thousands of data points

on every single American with a cell phone

or a computer.

He can control anyone.

Anything.

- You did so great, baby. - Mwah.

Thank you so much.

I love you.

I do. I love you.

You know, you're perfect.

Like, I knew it from the day we met.

Well...

Just took so long to find you.

You know how many girls' Facebooks

we had to scrape in order to find someone?

What's wrong with your voice, baby?

You know, with the right mix? Passion for politics,

- Hey. - Angry.

You know, so lonely.

Struggles with mental illness.

No attachment disorders.

- Wait, Kyle... - Most importantly, someone

I could stand to fuck.

- Kyle... - With enough data, you can make

people do whatever you want them to.

It's funny, you haven't been on your meds

for almost six months now.

'Cause I started changing them out.

And then, little by little,

now you're basically homeopathic.

And like he said, you know,

"Make her... make her need you," he said.

You know, "Like she needs oxygen."

And then I started hitting the dog

and I started petting the dog.

Like, "Oh, I love you," or then I kind of, like, hate you,

you know...

"I'm leaving, I'm staying."

He said...

"When you hand her the gun,

"She'll take it because she wants to.

And because she loves you."

You know?

You know, "And then we'll make sure she gets away clean,

'cause we don't want to get caught."

You know? And then

spilling the beans.

You know, "spilling the beans," that's...

that's another one.

L-O-L.

Okay.

We just received word

Senator Evers, after being in critical condition,

has passed away this afternoon.

Fucking bastard.

Preliminary reports have identified the shooter

as Eliza Wells of New York City.

Her social media presence shows a person deeply entrenched

in fringe political causes.

And in at least one post, she mentions her struggles

with depression and bipolar disorder.

Straight out of the patsy playbook.

MPD are still searching for her

and are asking if anyone has any information

to please contact them immediately.

Eliza Wells was last seen on foot,

running from the park moments after...

The brazen attack happened

in the middle of the day at a political rally.

Senator Evers was airlifted to the hospital,

but has since passed away.

This afternoon, the shooting death of Senator Evers

on the campaign trail.

Along with her security agent just hours ago

sent shockwaves across the country.

The shooter has been identified...

Tell them I had no choice.

Miles, no!