All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S10E21.XviD-AFG

Dembe Zuma?

It's for you.

Hello?

Dembe, that was
incredibly reckless
calling to warn me off.

Raymond, how did you know
I was at the mosque?

What were you thinking?

I was thinking about death...

possibly yours
or some hapless FBI agent.

I see. Well,
it was foolhardy,
short-sighted.

And it worked.

But at what cost?

You've done something
in the last few years

I never thought possible.

You wiped your slate clean.

You joined the FBI
of all things.

Don't go throwing away
your future on my account.

Nobody knows I made the call.

Good. That Congressman
is looking for any excuse,

especially when
it comes to you.

So don't do me any more favors.

I won't.

I'm going to
bring you in, Raymond.

That's the spirit.

I'm serious.

I hope so. For your sake.

Be safe, Dembe.

You, too.

Chuck, slight change of plans.

How quickly can you get ahold
of our friend Bertha?

Come on, people. Debrief in 20.

I want to hear some good news.

Mr. Cooper, perhaps you can
explain something to me.

Reddington blew up his own jet
to get away from us.

Then he turns around,

comes all the way
back to the city

just so you two can have
a cozy chat in your kitchen?

How does that make any sense?

It doesn't,
but his behavior rarely does.

Not from the outside, anyway.

Well, I guess
we should be grateful

for his lapse in judgement.

Barricades went up as soon
as you reported the incident.

This entire area has been
shut down and sealed off.

He was last seen driving this,
a 2018 Nissan Leaf.

He disabled the GPS,
but we got the plate number,

so our first order of business
is to find that car.

I'm sorry, but our
first order of business

should be to throw out
the playbook.

You may want
to think of Raymond

as an ordinary criminal.

That would be a mistake.

I realize you all
spent years with the man,

and you feel like
you know him better--

It's been over a decade,
and I still don't know him.

But there are a few things
we should probably explain.

His personal assets
are in the billions,

the scope of his influence,
basically unlimited.

And those are just
his external resources.

It's his mind you should
be worried about.

No matter where he is,

the time of day,
weather conditions.

He has escape routes
within escape routes.

Okay, keys and money
are in the envelope.

The car's outside.
Oh, and take this card.

If you get arrested,
call the number,

somebody'll bail you out.

Have a nice drive.

Keys and money
are in the envelope.

Your car's outside.
Take this card.

If you get arrested,
call the number,

somebody'll bail you out.

Have you ever heard
the expression

"He sleeps with one eye open"?

I've actually seen him do that.

I think what
we're trying to say is,

he's a real tricky customer.

The way you all build him up,

it almost sounds
like you admire him.

Oh, it's not admiration,
it's a warning.

Well, I don't care
if he's Lex Luthor.

Reddington is not
getting outside--

MPD just flagged his plate!

Heading east over
Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

Damn, he got past
the police barricade?

Let's get choppers in the air.

We need to shut all traffic
heading down towards--

Sir, sir. Virginia State
troopers just pulled over

a Nissan Leaf
moving west on I-66.

-The plate's a match.
-How the hell is he--

I don't understand this.

Aviation Command says
that they're circling him

on the Anacostia Freeway,
same plate, same car.

I'm not gonna find him
in any of these cars, am I?

I'm afraid not.

Within hours
he's somehow floods DC
with identical cars,

so we spend the day
chasing our tails
like a bunch of idiots?

Confusion, misdirection...

this is how he operates.

It's kept him safe
for over 30 years on the run.

But you do have one advantage
in this case.

What's that?

Us.

I've gotta make a call,

I'll be back.

Agent Ressler,
I wanted to find a moment
to offer my condolences.

Jon Pritchard was a good man--

You know what?
Don't, just don't.

Okay, I just--
I hope you don't
blame yourself--

Enough!

That's enough now.

Take him up to my office.

You all right?

Fine. Fine. I shouldn't've--

-Arthur--
-His friend died. Let it go.

Mr. Cooper.

Don't forget why you're here.

We all want the same thing.

All right, people,
let's focus up!

The name of the game
is Raymond Reddington.

He's inside that perimeter,

and if he's crawled
into some rat hole,

I wanna know where!

Last Sunday at Perkins,

I put a couple of these
hazelnut creamers in my purse.

Paula, did you happen to read
the paper this morning?

Nope. Too much gloom and doom.

Save me the obits, though.

It's a great way
to find eligible men.

One woman's widower
is another woman's gain,

I suppose.

I want to hear your best
funeral pick-up line,

but first, Paula,

there's something important
we need to discuss.

Take a breath.

I'm fine.

Clearly
you're not fine.

And that's understandable.
But you can't go around
punching Congressmen.

Especially that one.

Just checking to see
if you're okay.

It suddenly feels
very crowded in here.

You realize the investigation
is happening down there?

Yeah, I can't with them.

At the risk of sounding
unprofessional, same.

I realize
I haven't known Reddington

as long as you have,

but it still feels weird

teaming up with strangers
to hunt him down.

I don't want to lose my dental,

so don't tell the windbreakers
down there, but...

part of me is rooting for Red.

Maybe
part of me is, too.

But personal feelings aside,

the five of us have a decision
to make right here, right now.

This team has always
had one mission,

to bring criminals to justice.

When Reddington was with us,
he understood that.

But he's chosen to walk away.

And now those men down there

have asked us
to deliver him up.

We could make their jobs harder
if we want to.

But what would that
say about us?

They want us to find Reddington
to save our own skins.

But I want us to find him
because that's who we are.

Now, if you don't agree,

if you can't commit
to using everything you have

to bring Reddington
in to face justice head on,

then you should step aside.

Okay then.

Now we just have to figure out
where the hell he is.

One thing's for sure,

he's gonna get outta DC
as soon as possible.

Andrea? It's Raymond.

I'm curious,

what homes do you have
right now on the market?

Something small, modest,

east of Capitol Street,
south of the Mall.

I do have one a little further
west in Adams Morgan.

Updated kitchen,

nice hardwood floors...

No, no, no.
That won't do, I'm afraid.

My needs are quite specific.

Okay.

I have something
on Westover Drive,

bit of a fixer-upper.

Actually, never mind.

Too much fixer,
not enough upper.

Is it owner-occupied?

No, it's vacant.

Hmm. Sounds perfect.

It's a total gut.

I don't even think
it has a functioning toilet.

Not to worry, Andrea.

We'll be taking it right down
to the foundation.

You understand what I'm saying?

-The foundation? Right.
-Excellent.

How soon
can you pull down the sign?

We've identified
17 different locations

where Reddington
might have gone to ground
inside the containment zone.

Businesses connected
through Morgana Logistics,

underworld hideouts
he frequented,

and addresses
of his known associates.

Agent Zuma,
you've been awfully quiet.

Don't you have some ideas
from your history?

What exactly are you implying,
Congressman?

Over the years,
there have been a lot of keys
and a lot of doors.

I could draw you a map,
but I'm quite sure Raymond

has changed his protocol
since I've--

We've tried to explain to you
that Raymond doesn't do any...

Please, please,
no more speeches
about his brilliant mind.

We need to get rolling.

Everyone, listen up.

We've got a list
of 17 locations.

Reddington could be hiding out
in any one of them.

I need you to break into teams
and work down the list.

You're gonna be searching
private homes and businesses.

There may be civilians on site,

they may be hostile
to your efforts.

So I expect you
to exercise caution,

but I want all these places
cleared by end of day.

You've got a hunch, don't you?

And it's not
on that list, is it?

So why don't you...

Because if I'm wrong,

I would hate to cause
this person

any unnecessary distress.

If Reddington's
holed up with them,

they must be a formidable ally?

Not really.

But Raymond
really loves her Scotcheroos.

Her what?

Everyone's clear
on the timeline?

It's an awfully short window.

Our girl's built for speed.

I don't think
it'll be a problem.

How's she look?

Gorgeous as the day
we bought her.

All righty.

Forgive me, Paula.

I came to visit you,

and here I am
chatting away on the phone.

I assume
you have a good reason.

My Jellybean used to keep lines
of people waiting at the DMV

just to take the girls out
for a tinkle.

He loved those poodles.

I'm glad you brought that up.

I've been pondering Glen.

I've been trying to think
of a fitting

and more permanent way
to honor his memory.

A trust or a foundation,

a charitable something,
something in his name.

But what would make sense
for Glen?

I thought of the people
he's touched in his life,

his colleagues at the DMV,
his fellow bowlers.

We should probably skip over

what Glen loved
to touch the most.

But the point is,
what kind of a man was he?

What did he care about?

What worthwhile causes
did he champion?

Huh.

Nothing really comes to mind.

Nothing respectable, anyway.

It has been an uphill battle.

As you know, he had a few
passionate interests,

most of them
quite unmentionable,

in polite company at least.

He gave little to charity,

found most people
basically insufferable,

and vice versa.

I thought, perhaps,
his alma mater,

but how do you honor his legacy
of catcalling coeds

and dropping out
his third semester?

I don't know.
Maybe I'll just endow
a Chair at Harvard,

the School of Public Health
or something.

Not what Glen would've chosen,
but who knows?

Perhaps if he'd exhausted

all other uses
for his time and money,

he might've done
something good for humanity.

You never know.

And Paula, I'd like
to make you a part of it.

How about Honorary Member
of the selection committee?

I love any excuse
to throw a party!

You think those Harvard snobs

could handle a nice big bowl
of cheeseburger chowder?

Raymond,

you are so sweet to visit me,

but you better shake a leg.

It's not safe for you to be
in one place for too long.

So you have been
reading the paper.

Well, you just looked
so cute in that picture,

I wanted to cut it out
and put it in my scrapbook.

My dear, it's been a pleasure.

The greatest pleasure.

Paula.

Dembe?

Oh, is this a new gal pal
of yours?

She's a cutie pie.

We need to find Raymond, Paula.

Oh...

I'll check upstairs.

Well, here, take a load off.

I'd offer you some Scotcheroos,

but someone ate the last one.

I'm guessing that someone
was Mr. Reddington?

We want to keep you
out of trouble, Paula,

but you need to talk to us.

Okay, fine.

He came knockin' on my door,
and I took him straight to bed.

Oh, take your minds
out of the gutter, you two.

He didn't get
any sleep last night,

so I let him catch a few winks
in Jelly's old room.

Now, what's wrong with that?

Nothing, apart from aiding
and abetting a fugitive.

He told me
what to do about that.

He said that
if some pushy FBI agents

were to come around here,

I should tell them everything.

-Everything?
-That's what he said.

Every little detail,

so you can't charge me
with anything.

The first thing I noticed,

something was clearly
weighing on his mind.

And, uh, and then,
he wouldn't get off the phone.

Who was he calling?

I don't know.

If you expect
to get out of this
by trading information,

you actually have to give us
some information.

Well, if you're gonna
beat it outta me.

It-- It was a woman.

I'm not the jealous type,
so I didn't eavesdrop, um,

but her name was...

Andrea something or other.

I'm just about to get the key
out of the lock box.

Then we're
right on schedule.

No way!
You're a contractor.

Um, we may have
a slight problem.

It needs a little work,
but the bones are good.

Now lemme show you that AC unit
you were asking about.

There's people here.
They're taking a tour.

Well, you just gotta
get them to leave.

Andrea, come on,
you've got this.

You go, girl.

Okay...

Her name is Andrea Athens.
Raymond introduced us.

She's the one
who found him a space

to serve as
a duplicate Post Office.

Wait, what duplicate--

It's a long story
with a super boring ending.

Based on a hunch,

we thought it might be wise
to track Andrea down.

But we couldn't
get ahold of her.

She wouldn't answer her phone.

We tried calling her office,
but, apparently,

she dropped everything

to attend to a VIP
client's emergency.

That sounds like Raymond.

Wait a minute.
What are you two getting at?

You think Reddington
hired this woman to, what?

Buy him a safe house?

That's unclear,
but before Andrea
left the office,

she asked for her assistant
for the lockbox code

at 1120 Westover Drive.

That's outside
the containment zone.

Does that mean Reddington
got through the barricades?

If he has,
he may already be on site.

We're heading there now.

-Get SWAT on the line...
-Alert Metro PD...

Uh, we'll scramble units
to meet you at the house.

You love the house, right?

Who cares about the mold?

-What mold?
-Exactly!

That's what I say.

-What mold.
-No, what mold?

You didn't tell us
there was mold.

There's no mold
in the disclosure.

And if they didn't disclose it,
then where's the mold?

There is no mold!
- Where is the mold?

Is it the toxic kind--

It isn't any kind
because it doesn't exist.

I agree, mind over matter.

In this market,

you gotta be willing
to overlook

some of the little things.

A little mold, who cares?

Is it that black mold?

Black, green, brown,
whatever! Whatever!

Okay, we're outta here.

Mike, let's go.

Thanks a lot.

-I'm gonna remember this.
-Oh.

Buh-bye, now!

Happy hunting!

Donald told me
you were a menace
behind the wheel.

Come on, Grandma,
we're trying to catch
a fugitive.

Are you sure
you're ready for this?

To get out of the car?

Definitely.

No, I mean...

Well, I know we all agreed
to take Reddington down,

but now that it actually
might happen,

are you gonna feel okay
putting him in cuffs?

I'm not really sure.

I guess we'll have to find out
when it happens.

What's your ETA?

Uh, we're just down the street.

Backup's five minutes out.
Hold your position.

You are a menace.

Uh, look...

If Reddington's inside,

we don't move until
we have the house surrounded.

Um, we're pretty sure
he's not in the house.

How do you know that?

Because it's on fire, sir.

I don't get it. Why would he
go to all the trouble

of securing a safe house
just to burn it down?

Clear the way!
We've got a house
going up in smoke!

All right, let 'em through!
Let 'em through!

What are we missing here?

Well, I dunno, I mean,
maybe this is the wrong house?

It could just be
a bizarre coincidence.

No, wait, listen.

Raymond's using the fire.
That's how he's getting out.

You need to alert
all checkpoints.

Stop any fire truck
from getting through
the barricade.

Reddington's likely headed
south, southeast.

Know what he's driving.

Agent Nixon,
would you care to...

Notify ground units,
contact MPD.

Agent Ressler,
coordinate with Tactical.

I want eyes in the sky.

Let's find that truck!

Clean it and leave it.
We're gone in five.

Catch you
on the flip side, Chuck.

It's time
for an update.

Where are we?

Uh, same place that we were
nine hours ago.

We shifted
the containment zone south.

The units are going
door-to-door.

Still no sign of Raymond
or the truck.

Or Andrea Athens.

She's in the wind.

I don't even care about
divided loyalties anymore,

I just wanna find him
so I can take a nap

and oh, God, a shower.

You gotta admit, though,

that stunt with the firetruck
was pretty metal.

Oh, please,
we're all thinking it.

Here's what
I've been thinking.

I spent my rookie years
chasing him,

my next decade
working alongside of him,

only now putting him away's
gonna end my career.

What do you mean "end"?
Y-You're not retiring.

No, but... I mean, come on.

Even if we catch Reddington,

you really think Hudson's
letting any of us
walk away from this?

We got it! We got the truck.

Where's Agent Nixon?

Oh, he's on the phone
updating... someone.

Get him in here.
He needs to hear this.

Firetruck was abandoned...
here.

In a warehouse
outside Capitol Heights.

Finally, something we can use.

Let's scramble a team.

Start canvassing for witnesses.

Pull every traffic cam
in a 20-block radius.

Knock, knock, knock.

-Good news.
-Come in. Shut the door.

We found the firetruck.

-Was Reddington--
-Nah, he cleared out.

But we're checking the cameras
in the area.

Should ID his getaway vehicle
any minute now.

Great, so that just puts us,

oh, right, nine hours behind.

That's nine hours
for Reddington

to ditch whatever getaway car
you're talking about and go...

pretty much anywhere
in the country.

Or the world, for that matter.

Hey, look, I'm just here
to help you catch your guy.

If you don't like the way
I'm doing things--

It's not you. It's them.

What do think
they're doing out there?

We should've taken Reddington
at that airfield two days ago.

But he disappears
just as we arrived.

Then we lock down
an entire district,

and he slips past us
at the barricade.

How many times do we have
to fail before we admit

there's a reason
he's always one step ahead?

He's good at what he does.

He's been doing it for decades.

Yeah, but this time
it's different, right?

'Cause now we've got his team
helping us...

Unless it's not us
they're helping.

They're the Reddington
Task Force.

It's in their goddamn name.

If you're right,

we're gonna nail them
to the wall.

Where's Nixon going?

Who knows?

Why don't we go ahead
and review what we've got?

Unfortunately,
we couldn't recover

any of the security footage
of Reddington

or his crew
exiting the warehouse.

Our field photographer
took these.

What about this?

It's a red-light camera.
It only activates when
you go through the light.

So I guess there's some laws
that Reddington does obey.

But there are
other CCTV cameras

in the surrounding
neighborhood.

We're isolating every car
that passed by

in the hours after the fire.

We're up to 30 vehicles
and counting.

Reddington could be
in any one of them.

I'll talk to Agent Nixon,

see if he can get some help
running facial recognition
and tracking.

After ten hours,
we're gonna have to

comb through a lot of footage

to trace the trajectory
of his car.

He breached the barricade here.

He abandoned his truck here.

He's heading east.

A lifetime ago at a party
on the Hicacos Peninsula,

Raymond exchanged
some sweet nothings

with the wife of our host.

He was made to understand

that his life
would be worth nothing,

or his death
would be worth too much,

if he spent another night
in Varadero.

So we stole
our host's speedboat
and set out for Havana.

That's when he told me,

"In times of trouble
you go one of two ways,

up in the sky or out to sea."

Now we know he didn't go up,
not without his jet.

But what about out?

Congratulations.

You're not the only one
who's paranoid anymore.

It's not paranoia if it's real.

This real enough for you?

I pulled phone records
for all outgoing calls
made from this building,

the day we lost Reddington
on the tarmac.

Mm-hmm?

Minutes after we learned
the location of the jet,

there was a ten-second call
to a burner phone

that pinged to a tower
on highway 50,

right down the road
from the airfield.

-Reddington's burner phone.
-You were right.

Someone did call to warn him.

Who was it?

Operating off
of Dembe's theory,

we ran down any ships
with ties to Morgana.

We figured that Reddington
would want to push off

somewhere nearby
with minimal security.

Bluefish Pier is the closest,

but it's popular with tourists

which means a lot of eyeballs
with nothing better to do

than call the FBI tip line.

Can't ya just see
Red photobombing a selfie?

It's like, "Did you catch
a fish on vacation?"

"No, no. I caught a fugitive."

Anyway, the-- the second one,
Finley's Landing,

it's just a bunch of rich boys
and their toys--

yachts, sailboats,
that kind of thing.

Wait... Tillman's Wharf.

What?

Raymond used to have
an interest

in some commercial
fishing boats docked there.

He shielded most
of his investments

behind various shell companies,

but he enjoyed the perks of
supplying the freshest seafood

to restaurants and markets
around the city.

You're thinking that fleet
had a secondary purpose?

Why risk a traffic stop on land
when you can jump on a boat

and be in open water
within a few hours?

It's a good hunch.

Let's gear up
and head down to the--

Everyone,
stop what you're doing.

That's him.

What is this?
What are you doing?

Take him to interrogation.

Hang on, now you're
dragging your own people
away for questioning?

What kind of an outfit
are you running around here?

I wouldn't worry about it,
Mr. Cooper.

As you said, Agent Ishwood
doesn't report to you.

Whatever he's being
questioned about,

it should be conducted
by either you or me.

And right now, we don't have
the time to waste.

Agent Zuma has a credible lead.

We need to get
to Tillman's Wharf now.

All right, Zuma,
you come with me.

You can explain on the way.

The rest of you stay put.

And Mr. Cooper,
if you'd like to sit in

on the conversation
between Agent Ishwood
and Congressman Hudson,

please, feel free.

Your wife completed
a law degree two years ago?

Yes, sir.

You have a mortgage
and two kids in private school.

How'd you pay tuition?

We borrowed from her brother.

Marcus.

Marcus Kennedy.

Something wrong, Agent Ishwood?

No, sir. I just-- I--

I'll tell you what's wrong is

the three of us
wasting time in this room

while the most wanted man
in the world

gets further away
by the minute.

Agent Ishwood is a ten-year
veteran of the Bureau

with a sterling record.

So if you're building
to a point, Mr. Hudson,

I suggest you make it now.

Fourteen minutes before
our response teams arrived

at the airfield where
we tracked Reddington's jet,

a call was made from your phone

to a burner at the airfield.

So I'd say we're here

to figure out why Agent Ishwood

decided to betray his country.

That number corresponds
to the cell phone

taken from you earlier today,
does it not?

Yes, sir,
but I didn't make that call.

I don't believe you.

Tell me about your first year
with the Bureau.

- Mr.
- Cooper, please-- -You don't have to believe him.

We have surveillance devices
all over this facility.

If Agent Ishwood did make
that call, we'll see it.

And you won't.

Sir.

Lead the way.

Special Agent Zuma, FBI.

This is Special Agent Nixon.

We need the location
of these five vessels.

I'm afraid it's urgent.

Okay. Let me check the logs.

That's Agent Ishwood
at the exact moment
the call was made.

Doesn't appear to be
on his phone to me.

So either he gave the phone
to someone

or someone took it from him.

Do you mind?

First three on your list
set out last month.

And, uh, the Amy Jo's
been in dry dock

for the last two weeks.

What about The Great Shirley?

Yeah.

-Huh.
-What is it?

Great Shirley got in yesterday.

She was supposed to go to
dry dock for some engine work,

but looks like
they resupplied last night

and headed right back out.

Raymond left on a commercial
fishing boat late last night.

-Are you sure he was on it?
-Yes.

Call Coast Guard Base
Portsmouth.

We need them to use
every vessel

they have to track them
on radar.

Oh, my God!

Put the phone down
and put your hands
on your head.

- Now.
- Dembe?

I'm telling you,
he's on that boat.

Herbie, try and get Dembe
back on the line.

Hey, somebody get me
the Commander

of the Coast Guard's
fifth district, now.

Hold on a minute, Mr. Ressler.

I'm afraid we won't be taking
any more cues from Agent Zuma.

What are you talking about?
We need to find that boat.

No, we don't because
Raymond Reddington
is nowhere near that vessel.

- I understand your hesitation, Congressman...
- -Hesitation?

-Sir--
-...but if we have a lead,
we need to pursue it.

I don't know
what this is about,
but Agent Zuma just--

Dembe Zuma's under arrest.

On what charge?

Aiding and abetting a fugitive.

At 3:55 p.m.
just before our raid

on Reddington's jet
at the airfield,

a call was placed
from Agent Ishwood's phone

to a cell phone
in the vicinity.

We believe that phone belonged
to Raymond Reddington.

Only Agent Ishwood
didn't make that call,

Zuma did.

Here is Agent Ishwood
at the time of the call.

And here is Agent Zuma

90 seconds
after the call ended.

He was clever enough to avoid
taking the phone on camera...

But here he is putting it back.

Hope he washed his hands.

I'm telling you,
he's on that boat.

If we don't get him now,
we never will.

Nice truck.

Where's the boat?

We sunk it.

You smell like fish.

Crab, actually.

We'll roll down the windows.

I mean, he's definitely
slipping something

into Ishwood's pocket,

but maybe it's not a phone.
Maybe it's a...

a small, phone-shaped thing.

Herbie, just could you...

Sorry.

Look, I've grown quite fond
of Dembe, truly,

but should we really be
that surprised?

I mean, he spent decades
with Reddington.

It couldn't have been easy to
sever that kind of connection.

No one was
more suspect of Dembe

joining the FBI than me,

but he's proven himself
time and time again

to be a dedicated,
thorough, honest agent.

Who called his best friend to
keep him from a life in prison.

Are you sure you wouldn't have
done the same

if the roles were reversed?

I'm not.

I wouldn't even be here
if it weren't for Red.

I love him.

I mean, not as much
as he loves Holly, my wife,

which I guess I've always been
strangely comfortable with.

But the point is, everything
about chasing him feels wrong,

and I haven't known him
half as long as Dembe.

What I can't
figure out, though,

is that if Dembe
did warn Reddington,

why take us
to the real-estate agent?

Why lead us to the wharf?

He say anything
on the way over?

-Not a word.
-All right.

Excuse me. I need to speak
with Agent Zuma.

Given the circumstances,
I don't think
that would be appropriate.

I appreciate the counsel,
but Agent Zuma reports to me.

If you have a problem with me
speaking with one of my people,

you can take it up
with the Attorney General.

Stand aside.

Traffic is
slowed down on Route 264

with a tractor trailer
off on the shoulder.

In other news, police
have a suspect in custody

after a string of burglaries
targeting mobile homes

outside of Fairfield, and a...

At least I'm not on the news
down here.

Mm. The seaplane is fueled.

You'll need to leave as soon
as we arrive.

It'll be nice to get out
of the country.

Where are you off to next?

A meeting outside Bogota.

Will I see you?

When it's safe.

With any luck,
we'll be back on the mountain

by the start
of the rainy season.

We'll see.

Your people at the wharf.

Mary was questioned by the FBI.

What is it?

Dembe was taken away
in handcuffs.

It's not your fault, Raymond.

You didn't ask him
to interfere.

I know.

Coast Guard
just called off the search.

The boat's vanished.

Then he's gone.

Maybe. But not because of you.

I want you to know, Dembe,
you're gonna have

my full support in disputing
these accusations.

Whatever that tape suggests--

I won't be fighting
any charges.

I stole Agent Ishwood's phone,

and I warned Raymond
about the raid.

Why, Dembe?

If Congressman Hudson
and Agent Nixon

had cornered him
on the airfield,

Raymond would have
refused to surrender

and he and any number of agents
would have been killed.

You were trying to save lives.

And you spent the last 48 hours

trying to find Reddington
and bring him in safely.

If we explain that
to the Attorney General--

It won't matter.

Raymond is gone.

And someone on this Task Force
will be held accountable.

It should be me.

That's absurd.

Every member of this team
bears responsibility

for what we've done here.

If you think I'm gonna
let you take all of that
on your shoulders--

We are not the same, Harold.

You operated
in a legal gray area.

I spent over two decades
at the right hand

of the world's
greatest criminal.

You're not that man anymore.

No, I'm not.

And I'm grateful for my time
on the Task Force, but...

Mr. Cooper, please step away
from the table.

- What's going on here?
- Put it on.

I did
what you suggested.

The Attorney General agrees
that Agent Zuma should be

transferred to FBI headquarters
for further questioning.

I don't trust you.

I don't trust him.

And I certainly
don't trust this place.

You won't be pulling rank
to speak to our suspect again.

Let's go.

Where do you think
you're going, Agent Ressler?

Oh, with you.

I intend to be present
for Agent Zuma's questioning.

If you don't like it, well,

you can slap some cuffs
on me, as well.

No, no,
I won't make the vote.

Tell the whip
I'll explain when I can.

Believe me,
this is more important.

You know, I almost
have to hand it to him.

Getting his man
inside the FBI...

It's ballsy.

Whatever you may think,
Congressman,

I didn't join the Task Force
for Raymond.

Whatever you say.

Dembe. I got you.

I got you. Okay. Keys.

-You okay?
-My leg's pinned.

All right. You stay here.

You all right?

We'll get you patched up.

But we've gotta keep moving.

Let's load up.

Raymond...

I'm not going with you.

They'll put you in a cell
for years.

It's my choice.

Don't...

Don't move.

Congressman, please,
lower your weapon.

It's not what you think.

Put the gun down, Chuck.

Everyone, calm down.

Put the gun down, Chuck!

Shooting a man
is rather different

than convicting him
of a capital offense,
Congressman.

Congressman Hudson,
please.

Stay away from me.

No is going to hurt you.
Please, lower your weapon.

I don't trust you.
You're his guy.

No, I'm not.

I don't trust any of you.

I'm on your side here.
I'm not going anywhere.

But I'm asking you, please,
lower your weapon.

Stay back! Stay back!

What the hell?

- Red...
- In the van.

In the van.