All language subtitles for To.Catch.a.Killer.2023.NORDiC.1080p.BluRay.x264.DD 5.1-TWA.en-English

The countdown
to the New Year is on.

Fire up those
grills and ice the Cristal,

'cause it is time to party
this year out the door

and welcome the new one
right in.

I'm really excited.

I think it's gonna be
a really good year.

Of course, there's gonna be

one big party downtown
as fireworks light up

the night sky
over the Inner Harbor.

And safety, once again,

it's a top priority.

All across the country,
police departments...

Coming after
the stroke of midnight,

we have quite a party in store.

It's a relative calm
before the storm.

I want to show you
what it looks like behind me.

We've tested the confetti.

We've tested the fireworks.

Believe me,
you're not just gonna see them.

You're gonna feel them--
in your chest.

Yeah!

♪ Bring 'em all round,
we'll play cards ♪

♪ Wondering if you'll
strike my heart ♪

♪ We'll move to the floor

♪ And I'll take my cue

- ♪ But, baby
- Do it! Do it!

Do it! Do it! Do it!

♪ I'm sick and tired
of playing your games ♪

♪ It's too late,
I won't wait... ♪

♪ It's too late, I won't wait

♪ Doo, doo, doo-doo-doo

♪ Doo, doo, doo, doo-doo-doo.

Okay, so what's the problem?

She's the problem.

Okay? This woman is

distressing my customers,

and she's refusing to leave.

Hey, that's it.

You're done. Let's go.

Don't touch me,
you little shit.

- You hear that?
- Hey, dude.

You're the one
distressing the customers.

The lady paid for her meal.

She's entitled to finish it.

It's New Year's, man.

Yeah, I know it's New Year's.

I'm working here, buddy.

Great.

Ma'am, you can't
bring alcohol in here.

Try eating this food
without it.

Thank you.

Look, she clearly
has a problem.

Why don't you let her
just finish and leave?

Because she has been here
for three goddamn hours, okay?

Hey, listen,
I'm not trying to be

an asshole,
but I need that table.

- Really?
- Yeah, really.

I need that table, and I want
her gone, so do your job.

G25, Code 3.

All units handling
noncritical tasks,

report to Hopkins Plaza immediately.

I repeat: G25, Code 3.

What's a G25?

She stays.

Active shooter.

Twenty-five victims reported,
Seventeen confirmed dead.

We got reports of
a shooter down at the harbor.

Any eyes? Please confirm.

Sector 6,
ground control, come in.

305 West Fayette Street,

apartment 9B.

Dead teenage boy, Jonah Miller.

CST needs the room clear
right away.

I can't watch you die.

I can't watch you die.

305 West Fayette, 1409.

Can you confirm
victim deceased?

Mrs. Miller, I'm gonna
need you to lay him down.

I'm sorry,
I'm just doing my job.

Your job was to keep him alive.

All residents,

switch off your lights.

Stay away from the windows.

Do not leave your building.

This is not a drill.

All residents,
switch off your lights.

Hi.

My name's Eleanor.

- What's yours?
- Haley.

Mrs. Miller?

Your daughter needs you. Now.

Please let me take both of you
to your room.

Single bullet through

north-facing window
punctured the victim's head,

then hit the wall
at a downward trajectory of...

...23 degrees.

Stand by. All units ready?

Do you want to go blind?

Rooftop sniper, stand by.

Any more shots, let me know
if our guy's on the move.

Okay, okay. We've got it.

12 Redwood Street, 17th floor.

Jesus fuck.

This is Heli 2,
heading to Redwood.

Clear all civilian craft.

Everybody, get out! Get out!

Remove yourself from
the building! This way!

- Yes, that's correct.
- Hey! Stop!

- Do not leave the forecourt.
- What, are you insane?

The place is on fire.
Get 'em out!

What if one of them
is the shooter?

What if he's got
the whole place rigged to blow?

Get 'em out now!

Start recording.

- What?
- Get every face on video.

Record. Every face.

Get 'em on your phone.

Let's go! Let's go!

Move in!

Out! Out of the building now!

Go, go!

Keep filming.

Move it, move it, move it!

I got light! I got light!

Come on, honey.

Through the door,
top of the stairs.

Clear!

All clear!

This apartment's clear!

Nobody died here.
Not even a finger.

That's it.

You're okay.

Yeah, you're all right?

Hold this for me. Here!

- Hey.
- Hey.

She's all right.
She just fainted.

- Okay.
- Sometimes I do have that effect.

I'm gonna swap
your mask, all right?

I'm good. Thank you.

I'm sorry.

How long was I out?

- Whoop!
- Oh, oh, hold...

- I'm okay.
- You're not going
down 17 flights of stairs.

- Let's get her away.
- Yep.

Okay. Put her down.

Okay, good.
Good, good, good, good.

- Easy.
- All right, follow my finger.

That's it.

Okay. Good.

Three full sweeps, sir.
Not a sign.

Parking lot,
storage units, elevators.

Yeah, we all know what a
building is made of, Commander.

Stop thinking,
"Where haven't I looked?"

Hey.

Start thinking,
"Where would I hide?"

Give me your arm.

Mac.

- What you got?
- The owner's Norwegian.

- Financial advisor.
- Uh-huh.

He's in Oslo as we speak.

Says he never laid eyes
on the condo.

He got it as a debt repayment.

He's been trying
to sell it ever since.

- Good luck with that.
- Yeah.

Oh, shit! Fuck!

Sorry, guys.
Those were preprogrammed.

We're getting the others shut off.

Ah, fuck.

Confirming those were preprogrammed.

Make sure you turn them all off.

I seriously...
I thought we were getting shot.

Guys, we should get
that toilet right now.

Before it gets contaminated
any further.

No, guys. All of it.

The whole thing-- pull it out.

- Keep breathing, all right?
- Excuse me.

- Through your nose.
- Ma'am.

Does this place look
like an ER to you?

- Right.
- No.

- Okay.
- I'm sorry.

- Don't worry about it.
- Just-just leave me.

The explosion--
was it triggered remotely?

It's intact.

Whoever's inside
had a copy of the key.

We're holding
the residents in base camp.

At least the ones
we managed to hold on to.

My first responders
got the others on tape.

Good thinking. What about
searching the condos?

I could bring federal warrants.

I heard.

Seventeen flights and no gas mask?

You're wasting precious
medical time here, Falco.

In the middle of
a citywide medical emergency.

It won't happen again, sir.

Forget about the warrants.
We'll just ask permission.

Anyone gets antsy,
they're the ones we want.

All right, people, listen up.

We're being joined
by Special Agent Lammark

from the Bureau's
regional field office.

The FBI is gonna be
assisting us

with this investigation.

Thank you.

Okay, within
the next few hours,

your desks are gonna be
flooded with data,

much of it inevitably false.

You're also gonna hear
a lot of opinions.

But opinions
never caught anyone,

so it's important to keep
certain preconceptions in mind

while classifying evidence.

One: "Mass murderers
want to get caught."

Well, this one doesn't.

Twenty-nine victims.

Every shot found its mark.

No casings, no brass.

Not a single stray hair
or fingerprint.

This guy is thorough.

He didn't come here to die,

and he does not want
to be found.

We're gonna disappoint him.

Two: You will hear this man
called a terrorist.

But any terrorist organization

that could've
pulled that off...

...they would rush
to claim credit for it.

So far, none have.

Three:

You will hear this man
called a maniac.

Shit, I agree.

Except the range
of personality disorders

is so extensive that
it includes all of us here.

Depression, anxiety,

uh, schizophrenia.

But...

PPD, NPD,

PTSD.

We took every crazy
off the street,

there would be no one left
to police them.

So...

to succeed, we're gonna
have to keep our minds open.

Don't start out

picturing a racist or a Nazi.

He's not a type.

He's a person.

Somebody loved him.

Somebody trained him.

Somebody sold him that gun.

We find them...

we find our guy.

Four...

The governor's given you

all the resources
he can give you.

There's nothing more I can do.

I'm a federal agent.

- Highways are not
federal. I'm sorry.
- Ah.

Shutting them down
would only cause mass panic.

No, the shooter
causes mass panic.

Shutting down a highway
causes headaches.

Headaches my governor
doesn't need right now.

In shock,
the mayor has called for calm.

If you see anyone suspicious...

"It's not a type.
It's a person."

What a hack.

No wonder
they kicked him out of D.C.

These people,
they're just born plain evil.

Evil is cutting off a bird's
wing just to see what happens.

This guy is
swatting mosquitoes.

Whatever. We should
string him up by his balls

from the top of a flagpole.

That'll deter all the other
nutsos out there.

Officer.

Why don't you leave
the sentencing to the judge.

Our job right now
is to catch him.

- Sorry, sir.
- Oh, it's okay.

Nice to know
how I'll be remembered.

Any chance of
some fresh coffee?

This tastes like
transmission fluid.

Right away.

Mm, I'll do it.

It's okay.

Excuse me.

Why'd you say that thing
about mosquitoes?

- Oh, it was just a feeling.
- Based on what?

I don't think this guy
is looking for destruction.

I think
he's looking for relief.

And do you have a feeling
that he's gonna do it again?

Yes.

Why?

Because he liked it.

How do you know?

He killed 29 people.

Otherwise, he would've
stopped at two.

Well, why did he stop
shooting at all?

I mean, why not kill 50? 60?

Was it because
the fireworks stopped

and so there was no more cover
for the gunshots?

- Yeah, maybe.
- Bullshit.

Don't patronize me.
Tell me what you think.

I think he got his fill.

No matter how good
the food tastes,

you stop eating
when you've had enough.

Till you get hungry again.

What's your name?

Eleanor Falco, sir.

Lammark.

The number of
deaths by firearms in this...

Maybe because
we leveled Iraq on a lie?

There's no
Second Amendment in China.

Now you're
justifying mass murder?

No, I'm trying
to understand it.

There's no
moral ambiguity about it.

The rate of death
by either suicide or homi...

...construct
elaborate narratives

in which they get
to be the hero.

Hey.

Pseudocommandos are terrorists

without a known cause.

They become obsessed
with weapons and regalia

to make up for their own sense
of impotence and failure.

They're often
victims of aggression

during childhood
and development,

especially from the people

who are supposed to love
and protect them.

Sir?

Any trouble
with Lammark, Falco?

Trouble?

Meet him at Lindenblatt's at 6:00.

He wants to see you.
Didn't say why.

Fuck.

We are exposing
more people to more risk.

It's out of the question.

You can forget about it.

Jesse, haven't you seen "Jaws"?

Right now, you're the asshole

that's trying to keep
the beach open.

Twenty-nine bodies.

Well, they had 58 in Vegas.

Next day, you had Celine Dion--

she's onstage, Caesars Palace.

- The show's got to go on.
- Hello.

That guy was dead.

We have an Olympic-class
marksman running wild.

The governor
is not closing hospitals,

- is not closing down schools.
- Fine. Of course.

Those we can deal with,
but theme parks,

malls, stadiums?

Yeah, well, we're not gonna
impose a curfew

without a single clue.

What's the strategy?

"Until Lammark finds him"?

By now, the guy could be
in Minnesota.

- They're not closing Minnesota.
- Oh.

9/11, New York City--
they didn't shut it down.

Look, if you can't
deliver what you promised

without shutting down
the whole damn city,

- forget about it.
- Jesse.

Calm down.

I can find him.

What I need to know
is that you're onside.

I got to go.

Mayor was still mayor
in the sequel.

That's the lesson from "Jaws."

Let's revert later today.

I don't even know
what that means.

Jesus fuck.

Sir.

Um...

is this a good time?

No, please. Please, go ahead.

These fucking people.

It's almost as though
they designed a system

specifically to drain
my energy away.

I don't get it. Don't they
want you to catch him?

Oh, yeah. By yesterday.

The problem is that
they think they know how.

Anyway, let's talk about you.

Coffee?

Sure.

I can think of two reasons

why you might be getting
a good read on this guy.

One: You're potentially
a good detective.

Two: You're as fucked-up
in the head as he is.

Either way,
I'm doing everyone a favor

by keeping you off the streets.

Oh.

- Hey.
- Hi.

Look at you, buddy.
What's got you so slim?

Cut out gluten.
It's a magic bullet.

- That gluten, huh?
- Yeah.

- Steak and eggs got gluten?
- No.

I believe you've met
Jack McKenzie?

As an investigator, frankly,

he's average at best.

But when we get close
to that killer,

trust me,
we all want Mac around.

Flattered.

She staying?

I'd have to ask
for your transfer.

I'd be working for the Bureau?

No, you'd be a liaison
between BPD and me, basically,

making sure that I get
the information I need

when I need it.

I'm surrounded
by jackals and clowns.

Krupp and Marquand are capable,

but they're gonna feed
everything back to D.C.

I just need people around me

that are smart
and that I can trust.

Right now, believe it or not,
that's you two.

So don't fuck it up.

Be an artist, not a cop.

Use your intuition.

This guy's on
a spiral of destruction.

I expect you
to slide down after him.

I'm here to catch you.
You know that.

You stay away from this girl.

Thank you, sir,
but I can protect myself.

Oh, I'm worried about him.

Okay, people.

Let's go catch him.

The block has
12 security cameras,

but the drive overwrites
every 72 hours.

Our guy got in before that,
we missed him.

There are also
significant blind spots,

including the service bay

and the second-floor
hallway window.

Now, Samantha's collating
all the incident AV:

cell phones,
drone surveillance.

It's about 300 hours
of footage.

We should have it cleaned up

and cut down in sequence
by 1:00 p.m.

Can I see a rough cut at 11:00?

Absolutely.
The Realtor's checking through

all of the walk-throughs
over the last six months.

He and his team will be
available for questioning

first thing tomorrow morning.

Okay, painters, locksmith,
phone company.

- Come on.
- No landline, no cable, no Wi-Fi.

No one lived there.

The owner had the place painted
before the pandemic.

We found the company.
We're tracing the men.

Um, Eleanor?

Uh, you-you're gonna get copies
of all these reports, okay?

Yeah, all right.

Um... please.

Señor Ortega has been a janitor

at this building
since it opened.

He's 54, Cuban, GPR negative.

There's no guns, no record.

He claims he's never had a copy

- of the keys.
- Right.

There's another janitor

named Barraza,
works the night shift.

He was off on holiday,
so he's unreachable.

Where is Barraza?

He's not in the area.

I didn't ask where he isn't.
I asked where he is.

Doesn't fit our profile.

He's friendly, funny.

Half of the residents
accused him

of smoking weed in the hallway.

- What about the other half?
- They're buying it from him.

Lot of laughter. Krupp?

We've I.D.'d
the building's residents

- and instigated background checks.
- Mm-hmm.

Counterterrorism are processing
the profiles right now.

Counterterrorism?

Frank Graber requested them.

I run the operation.

Not Frank Graber.

Not D.C. Certainly not you.

They have twice our resources.

I thought you'd be on board.

I'm just trying
to speed things along.

I'll speed your ass
out the door.

If Frank Graber
requests resuscitation,

you need my approval first.

Okay?

That goes for everyone.

What is it now?

Confirmation that you are not

requesting a curfew.

Jesse Capleton
asked you to sign.

Why would I sign something

that's the exact opposite
of what I asked for?

He said you agreed to
in the meeting,

and now he needs you
on the record.

Fucking asshole.

Okay. Marquand?

- Yes, sir.
- Be straight with me.

Have you been talking
to counterterrorism?

No, sir.

Is it gonna stay that way?

Yes, sir.

Then what you got?

Well, the shockwave analysis confirmed

the use of a hand grenade.

It's an M14.

He turned on the gas,
pulled the pin,

- walked out, and he closed
the door behind him.
- Mm-hmm.

There's also a lot of scratches
under the lock.

Like he had
a big bunch of keys.

Now, ballistics has their money
set on an XM21 sniper system.

Used in Vietnam,
right up to Desert Storm.

They updated the scope in '75,

but we think
it's one of the originals.

If that's the case, we, uh...
we got a problem.

What's that?

The gun is older
than the database.

That means we're gonna
have to go old-school,

match each piece of evidence manually

with military archives
state by state.

- It's a fart in a hurricane.
- That's very poetic.

That's what my wife says.

What does the Army do
with weapons

that are no longer in use?

If they're in decent condition,

they get kicked down
to local law enforcement.

Some get dismantled,
others get redistributed

to armed allied forces
around the world.

Who dismantles them?

Uh, the arsenal keepers.
Every base unit has one.

But who actually verifies
that they're destroyed?

You know what?
Get the keeper records.

Active duty, prosecutions,
missing weapons,

- psych trauma, PTSD.
- We're on it.

We can all use more help, Nathan,

but I need collaboration,
not competition.

There has to be
a clear chain of command.

Personal question?

Don't you think
Lammark's a bit paranoid

about other teams
being involved?

Not really.
Everyone's looking for credit.

I've seen way too many cases
derail from friendly fire.

My God.

Tell me you got something here.

Height, weight, anything.

That distance-- I can't even
start to speculate.

Small entrance,
large exit on all.

One shot per victim.

Head, chest, neck-- gone.

- All yours, my friend.
- Yeah.

You ever seen anything
like this, Mac?

Not outside the Army.

Very few inside.

I mean, you got wind,
fireworks distracting you.

It's flawless.

Someone knows
how good this guy is.

Military-trained
or high-level sports.

Either way,

this is winning medals.

Is the shooter a man?

Yes.

Why?

At this scale?

Unprecedented.

Planned or spontaneous?

- Planned.
- Spontaneous.

Then why did he have a weapon?

He was trespassing.

Maybe he was expecting
the police.

With a 40-year-old
sniper rifle?

Different genders,
different races.

Some old, some quite young.

There's no pattern.

Why?

Well, we can speculate

that nature's not to blame.

Culture is.

We're all different.

We still act the same.

Rush hour, lunch hour,

Black Friday, New Year's Eve.

We just blindly follow
the same patterns.

He's not punishing people.

He's disrupting behavior.

There's no torture,
no reveling in the suffering.

Just a-- poof--
quick one-way ticket to Narnia.

Sir.

They have him.

What do you mean,
"They have him"? Who has him?

Frank?

I'm heading this up
till Nathan says otherwise.

Hey, don't have a heart attack.

I'm not here to undermine you.

We just have to move fast.

We're checking up
the residents,

and this kid rings alarm bells
all over the place.

We try to question him,
he locks himself in his room

and threatens to kill everyone,
which is never a good sign.

Alpha Team, into position.

Beta Team, clear the floor.

Do we have eyes on the weapon?

Repeat, is the weapon confirmed?

It was nice of you to invite
everyone before calling me!

He ticks every box: ADHD,

skips school
because he gets bullied,

spends all night
watching ISIS clips

and blowing out brains
on video games.

And his uncle Aziz took him
to the gun club last summer.

This is where the tenants

of 12 Redwood Street
are staying on your dime.

Now it seems the killer
is among them.

How'd he access the apartment?

The Rahmanis--
they live above it.

He could've climbed to
the ledge. He knows the area.

Probably planned out
this whole thing.

Ready to go. 20 seconds.

Copy that.

Alpha Team, we're going in.

Do we know for certain
that he's armed?

He said he was gonna
kill everyone!

I asked whether he was armed,
not what he said!

There was a mattress
in that condo.

Why would there be one
if he lived upstairs?

Who is this?
Why is she even here?

It's okay, Eleanor.

In three, two, one.

Go, go, go!

Did you give the go-ahead?

Back off, Lammark!

- Get down on the floor!
- Get down!

Where's the weapon?

Stay the fuck
right where you are!

- I didn't do anything!
- What the fuck are you doing?

Get a life mat.

He's going for the window!

He's going for
the fucking window!

Get a life mat!

Your tax dollars are
paying for their room service.

Now it seems the killer
has been among them all along.

Where's the weapon, Frank?

So far, you haven't found
a catapult.

He could've stashed it anywhere.

A: You don't have a firearm.

B: You're oceans away from
establishing any connection

to an old XM21 rifle
in particular.

C: You don't get to become
a first-class marksman

playing video games.

So, you either find
some evidence here,

make some sense of it,

or admit that this has been

a colossal fuckup!

Come on, Lammark.

If it wasn't him,
how come he jumped?

I don't know, maybe it's
'cause of that fucking parasite

Jimmy Kittridge calling him
a terrorist on live TV.

Arab kid,
Baltimore high school.

Do you think
he pictured himself

becoming homecoming king
after that?

Okay, but for now,
it could've been him, right?

I mean, until
he's proven innocent?

Jesse, it's supposed to be
the other way around.

Not when we're competing
with six other states

for a $9 billion gas plant.

I need the people out there
to feel safe, Lammark.

This shows them we're on it.
It buys us more time.

Are you gonna tell that shit
to the Rahmanis?

Go ahead, tell 'em that,

'cause I got
fucking work to do.

Three painters worked
the apartment.

We've got Rodney Lang,

Abraham Haynes
and Dimitri Bovrov.

Mr. Lang, this should be quick.

I hope you don't mind.
Uh, I brought backup.

Wife's working a double, so...

guess who's in charge
of little Desmond here.

Desmond, huh?

Had an uncle called Desmond.

Used to write erotic novels
under the, uh, name

"Melody Bangs."

- Okay.
- I suppose you remember
where you were last night?

Uh, yeah. Actually, we...

went down to the harbor
to watch the fireworks.

We were there. Scary shit.

You got... you got proof?

- Proof?
- Mm-hmm.

We got proof, yeah.

Like a million selfies.

At my mother-in-law's.

I thought you caught the guy.

Maybe. No pictures?

Mm...

Of my mother-in-law?

Lots of pictures.

Big party. Cousins, nephews.

What am I doing here?
Am I a suspect?

I just stripped
the fucking place.

Two years ago.

Hey, hey, hey. calm down.

It's all good.

Just asking you questions.

I was at my apartment alone.

Relax, Dimitri.

It's still legal to spend
a night alone in this country.

Can you prove it?

My, uh, neighbor,
maybe he see me come in?

And, uh,
I call my father in Russia.

Perhaps you can verify
with phone company?

But you did get some...

some military training
in Russia, right?

Did you get
any shooting practice?

Sir, I did not kill
those people.

I find it shameful that I need
to explain this to you.

I'm an honest man,

and I work hard
for what I have.

Yes, I did shooting practice--
two weeks.

Then I break my arm,
so no good for shooting.

They tell me to go
clean barracks, so I sweep,

I wash windows, and that is
how I serve my country.

Mr. Haynes, why did you stop working

at DeLuxe Painting and Repairs?

Maybe I wasn't fast enough.

You'd have to ask them.

So, you...
you stripped the place.

- Alone.
- Yes.

What else do you remember?

That light.

The view.

We worked the lounge together.

Then Dimitri stayed extra
for the bedrooms.

I think.

No, I did the bedrooms.

I'm sure.

Eleanor, would you
consider it sexist of me

if I asked you
to take little Desmond here

and put him to sleep?

Oh. Thanks, sweetie.

Mr. Lang, you've got
quite the, uh...

the gig
in wall painting, right?

You're a regular at DeLuxe.

A string of work
for Ultraviolet as well?

Well, uh,
kids don't come cheap.

Hi. Excuse me.

Preliminary lab report.

- Oh.
- Mind signing it for me?

- Okay. Sure.
- Thanks.

Awesome. Thank you.

No, guys, please. Guys!

Do you want an investigation,

or do you want
an entertainment event?

Hey, Eleanor.

Did you receive
a package from the lab?

Yes, sir.

I've included it in my report.

The urine and fecal samples
were scarce,

but there was still enough
to detect an iron deficiency.

I looked it up, and it's common

amongst people
who don't eat meat.

What time did it arrive?

- I don't know, 20 minutes ago?
- 45.

I didn't have it,
so, uh, I rang the lab.

- Checked with the courier.
- I'm sorry, sir.

I was just trying to help.
You were on the phone, and...

This is specialized, urgent,

classified intel.

You are the BPD liaison,
a beat cop,

no college degree,
but you decide

that I should wait
for your verdict.

Eleanor, I'm sorry I snapped.

I had a ridiculously stressful
phone conversation.

- I took it out on you.
- No worries.

Hey, I know it's late,

but I have, uh,
some new stuff to go over,

and I could use
some of your brain.

Want to come have some dinner,

talk it through
with a good glass of wine?

Sir, if you hired me
so you could fuck me,

you can take this job and
you can shove it up your ass.

Eleanor, I'm married.

Come and have dinner with us.

You look like you could use
a good meal.

You also think
it's gonna happen again.

Why did you sign that memo?

You can't fight every battle.

Have to choose
the ones you can win.

Yeah, but when you sign,
you're a part of the game.

And when you don't,
they replace you.

The only decision you're making

is whether
to be buried or burned.

Jesse Capleton can't fire you.

He's not your boss.

Jesse Capleton
operates my boss,

who operates him in return.

Guys like that,
it's a circle jerk.

All it takes is one call.

"Don't you think Lammark's
a little off his game?"

"Well, there is
no bigger fan than me,

but we do have to think
of his heart."

They each say what
the other one wants to hear.

Before you know it,

you're packing your desk
into a box.

- Humble opinion?
- Mm-hmm?

It's not 'cause they're scared
you won't catch him.

It's 'cause
they're scared you will.

You crack this,
you get the spotlight.

Some people just can't stand
the shadows.

There's something odd
about Lang.

The watch, the shoes,

bringing the baby in.

It's not Lang.
His alibi's solid.

But I'll call Tracey
in the morning

if you want to monitor
his comm.

How long have you been married?

Ever since we were allowed.

That's the big question:

how people shape systems,
how systems shape us.

Can I get you a little...

Oh, just water, thank you.

Today, it's all about status.

The people that have it
would kill to protect it,

the people that want it
would kill to achieve it,

and everybody else
gets crushed in between.

Governments, corporations
and high schools.

Pattern seems to be the same.

How do we change that?

You mean empathy, connection?

If we truly see ourselves
in others,

we want to raise them up,
not bring them down.

If we ever run out of money,

you are gonna write
fridge magnets.

I'm serious--
you would be fantastic.

Oh.

What are they saying?

You don't want to know.

Gavin, I do want to know.

That's why I asked.

You know the drill.

First 24 hours is:
"Who did this?"

And then after that, it's:

"Who's the idiot
that's not catching him?"

No, I meant the theory.

- Oh. Right.
- What's the theory?

- Mm-hmm.
- Sleeper cells of terrorists

in every American town,

an inside job designed to scrap
civil liberties laws.

Jewish plot? Take your pick.

And what's yours?

Such a good question.

- Let me see.
- Bad call.

She asked.

I think your man
wasn't born here.

Hmm.

I think he feels
a place he grew up in

has become
a pretty awful place,

along with a good portion
of the world...

...and I think he believes
this nation is responsible

for at least 50% of that mess.

Shit.

If you weren't afraid
of heights,

I'd book you as a suspect.

What scares me is that
a good portion of you

- thinks this man has a point.
- Mm-hmm.

About the country
that stopped the Nazis...

- Mm. Right.
- ...stepped on the moon,

mapped the entire human genome

and landed a spacecraft on Mars

140 million miles
from your current position.

While landing our brands,
our plastic, our distortion,

our exaggeration
everywhere else.

I went to Bogotá to lecture.

Best damn coffee
on Earth, right?

You know where they took me?

Starbucks.

We take the best of everywhere,

and we send it back worse
for profit.

And that's what we do
to our friends.

Profits pay taxes,

which pays for
research and development.

- Eleanor...
- Gavin, go to bed,

or I'll arrest you for
harassing two public servants.

I give up. I give up.

So, Eleanor,
why did you lie to me?

Sir?

You were rejected
by the Bureau.

You decided not to tell me?

That's what pissed me off,
not the lab report.

Yeah, it was eight years ago.

I didn't think it would matter.

We're under the microscope.

Everything matters.

I just thought
I could prove myself

before I got found out.

I should have told you.
I'm sorry.

You aced observation
and knowledge.

It was your psych eval
that did you in.

"Aggressive, addictive,
antisocial."

This is the profile
of people we arrest, not hire.

You know when they ask you
to draw a tree? -Mm-hmm.

The trunk represents
your life up to the present.

- Yeah.
- And from the picture,

Dr. Katz conjectured
that something fucked you up,

and pretty badly,
around the age of 12.

There's no soil.

Tree has no roots, no fruit.

Did something happen back then?

- Is this necessary?
- It's not mandatory.

I just want to know
if we should fire Dr. Katz,

'cause I think you got talent.

"Have you ever tried
any illegal substances?"

"Yes." "Which ones?"
"All of them."

That didn't help
your application, either.

What were you thinking?

Kurt Cobain: "I'd rather
be hated for who I am

than loved for who I'm not."

Yeah.

He's not exactly a role model,
according to the Bureau.

You worked at a dry cleaner's
and with a call center.

Hey, why didn't you look for
something with more prospects?

You're smart, articulate.

Well, that doesn't
count for much

when you don't go to college.

So, why didn't you?

Because there was no one
to pay for it.

And when you work all day
trying to make rent,

you don't feel like studying;
you feel like sleeping.

What led you
to law enforcement?

I was looking for protection.

From who?

From myself.

That enough for you?

No.

Eleanor...

...the only thing enough for me
is a solid lead.

The hatred
that drives our shooter

isn't so different from yours.

Instead of going out there
and wiping everybody out,

you turn it against yourself.

I need you to use it as fuel
to bring me something new.

Now.

We get this guy,
this all goes away.

And we can both do the job
we were meant to.

Would you like your teeth
whitened, ma'am?

We can do it
right here on the spot.

- Not today.
- You'll notice the difference

- in just five minutes.
- Thank you, dear.

Brighten your sm...

Ladies, if you're longing for summer,

it's time to start getting in shape.

Come for a free consultation
in the second-floor beauty bar.

Please do not leave

any store bags unattended.

If you see anything suspicious,
just tell our security team.

- Uh, excuse me.
- Yes?

Uh, I think you took my stuff
by mistake.

My own clothes.

What the hell is wrong
with you, bro?

Uh, excuse me.

You got a guy giving himself

a full body wash
in the basin back there.

I mean, I'm guessing he's got issues,

- but seriously, not cool.
- Yeah, I got it.

Can we get
someone down to level three?

I-I got a guy here.

Uh, somebody ran off
with his clothes.

- Let's call dispatch.
- There's no one here.

Oh, my God. What's he doing?

- I'm tired of these dudes.
- Hey.

Where's your sense
of self-respect?

You're not an animal.

- Ignore him. It's...
- I...

Hey!

Sir!

Sir, stop right there.

Hold it!

Gonna need to take a look
in the bag, sir.

Don't make us ask twice.

Open the bag, sir.

- I just want to go home.
- I know you want to go home.

We just need to see
the contents of the bag.

Please, can you open
that up for us?

- I just want to go.
- We'll let you go.

We just need you
to open that bag.

Open the bag right now, please.

- Open the bag.
- Sir, don't make me ask again.

- Open the bag.
- Open the bag!

Fuck!

I haven't seen
an XM21 in years,

but they're around
if you know where to look.

Where would I look?

DoD's the only
government department

that's failed every audit
for the last 25 years.

They lost track of a billion
dollars' worth of weapons

in Iraq and Kuwait alone.

Mr. Lassky, why would you buy
a vintage weapon

when there are
newer ones available?

Well, ofttimes, they're better.

Easy load, easy clean,
standard ammo.

Like that 1853 Enfield?

Yeah.

That's a classic.

Used by the Confederate forces.

And the Ku Klux Klan.

Listen, I'm not doing
anything illegal here.

The history of America...

Milkor BXP? In Maryland?

It's pretty illegal.

Look, Mr. Lassky,
I'm gonna need

a list of all of your clients.

If this guy's one of them

and you withheld
that information...

Got two paramedic teams here.

- Can they enter?
- Copy that.

We'll send an escort.
Which entryway, please?

Copy that. Okay, keep moving.

We have a Black male, 35,

five-ten, 220 pounds...

Are they even listening?

Guy's over six feet,
white as my ass.

Yeah. I'll go set 'em straight.

I repeat, we have a Black male

35, five-ten, 220 pounds...

Okay.

...magnum .357
in the back of his trunk.

That's got to be the weirdest
fucking thing I've ever seen.

Talk to Sam.

Reflections in windows,
cameras in stores.

We should be able to get
a 3D printout of this guy.

Sorry, there's no...
there's no cameras in there.

Not yet.

W-W-Wait. Rewind that.

That's his shirt.

- Take me to that restroom.
- Yeah, sure.

He didn't come here to kill.

He came here to eat.

To get new clothes.

To clean up.

A dog who knows
where the leftovers are.

Smart enough
not to leave any fingerprints.

Is he just picking out
the vegetables?

Yeah.

There's your iron deficiency.

Our dog is a herbivore.

Christ.

The marksmanship.

Cool as a fucking cucumber.

He doesn't want to engage.

This is like fucking "Pac-Man."

Who trained him?

Not the Army.

Weapons are an extension of himself,
like hair, or nails.

He was born among 'em.

Bad news here.

- What is it?
- The cleaning crew

came through
before the shooting began.

The trucks pick up at 2:00.

- Oh, my God.
- Where do they go?

Ugh.

I can't tell what's gonna
happen to me first--

I'm gonna have a heart attack,

- or I'm gonna get fired.
- Yeah.

Well, thanks
for the reassurance.

You're just being paranoid.

Look, in case I'm not,

work side by side
with McKenzie.

Stop that truck.
If we can get that DNA...

Mac, where are you?

- Take her with you.
- Yeah.

I'm just letting him
think he's in charge.

Hey, Lammark.

Take your pills.
Ignore the clowns.

Fight the jackals.

Get out of here.

Whole building
takes a shit four times a day.

Everything gets mixed together,
compressed in the trucks

and then dropped here.

Thank you.

Thank you, gentlemen.

Thanks.

We're looking for a green shirt

someone dropped
in the second-floor restroom.

- Any tips?
- Yeah.

Don't eat the sushi.

Isn't the, uh, organic stuff

supposed to get separated
from recycling?

Yeah, but we don't do that yet.

I guess they're still telling
people to separate their trash

to raise awareness
or something.

- Who knows?
- Right.

- Thanks, man.
- Yeah, don't mention it.

One of the biggest
attacks in American history,

and all we can offer is
"please stay indoors"?

Nathan, it's been
less than 72 hours

since the first shooting.

And people already think
you lost control.

We need a game changer.

- This could be it.
- No, no, no.

We still don't have a face.

Let's show the way he moves.

Two and a half million viewers.

Someone's got to know this guy.

Kittridge is an idiot.
Idiots are unpredictable.

It's Pandora's fucking box.

We risk unleashing problems
we don't even have.

I'd rather take a fucking risk

than have people think
we have nothing.

I mean the risk
to the population,

not your administration.

That's a lead.

Hair, sweat.

What about prints?

On most fabrics, it's unlikely,
but let my team do their job.

Look, I don't think
you're listening, Lammark.

The decision's
out of your hands.

You don't play along,
so is this investigation.

This doesn't look very good.

- No, it doesn't. At all.
- Beware.

The exclusive footage
you are about to see

contains extremely
disturbing images.

If you're with kids
or sensitive to violence,

then please look away now.

These acts are horrifying,

but they're not
the product of a monster.

They're the product of a man.

A dangerous man, sure,
but damaged, too.

That's why I make this plea.

If you know this man,
if you love this man,

if you are this man,
then call this number.

- Well...
- We're here to help.

...there's the Nobel
for the worst fucking idea.

Teamwork makes the dream work.

Oh, fuck off, Frank.

Now, with me tonight
is Martha Curry, professor...

HDM, World War II era.

OSS pistol of choice.

Hard to find outside
Special Forces inventories.

When it comes
to mental disorders,

violence is
more commonly reactive

than planned, triggered by...

Okay, I got to stop you there.

We have a caller. Hello.

I'm scared of my husband.

He's been acting weird lately.
He's...

Does this man
look like your husband?

Could this be him?

Actually not, but still...

Okay, okay. I'm sorry.
This isn't marriage guidance.

We are here to identify
a mass murderer.

All right. Arsenal keepers
from the last 50 years.

Green means solid alibi,
blue still TBC.

We're targeting
the ones in pink.

They've been discharged
from the Forces.

And the yellow?

Oh, they're dead.
Pretty solid alibi.

Yeah, I think
we can safely assume

that the shooter
is amongst the living.

Munitions this old could be
quite the inheritance, sir.

That's a damn good point.

Damn good point.

Okay. Mall footprint analysis.

Cat work boots, six years old.

He's not the first owner.

Soles worn on the left.
He favors the right.

Also sawdust, wood chips
and paint traces.

I know who killed
a thousand people last year.

- The police did.
- Sir, 24 officers

just died in that mall.

The police risk their lives
to protect you.

...Daunte Wright,
Andre Hill, Breonna Taylor.

Should I go on?

We are looking to
make television history here.

This number is exclusively...

"Thou shalt not kill."

I saw that in a school room.

When have you last seen
"Thou shalt not kill"?

When have you last seen that?

My goal here today is to try
to calm things down,

not make things worse.

Because-because...

Try to have a dialogue.

Sir, you came up
with a dumb statement...

...that came from
your prejudiced heart.

Sweden was founded by Vikings.

Shirt results just in.

- Mm-hmm?
- All right.

No fingerprints, but CODIS
found hair and skin particles.

Hair's brittle near the ends,

and when it falls out,
so do fragments of the skin.

What are they trying to do?
Sell me dandruff shampoo?

No, it's common among people

who suffered
severe head trauma.

The majority
of the last shootings

have all been involved
with these kids.

And you are live on
"The Kittridge Show."

Don't be shy.

I'm not shy. I'm proud.

Proud? Of what?

Proud of my people.

Proud of our soldier.

Oh, you're an army?

Are you commanding these guys?

What do you want,
cheaper sneakers?

They're on it.
They're tracking him down.

'Cause not many great battles

were fought in a mall.

This isn't a game.

It's a reset.

Our nation's promise restored.

He used a prepaid AT&T line

and dialed star 67
to hide his number.

- Okay.
- That works?

How do I know you're not

just some kid
with a voice distortion app,

jerking off on a swastika flag?

An HDM? An Ingram MAC-10?

Those are not kids' toys.

You can mock me
from your ivory castle,

but your time is coming,
too, my friend.

Whoa.

Phone was bought at Walmart

in Montgomery County
25 minutes ago.

I'm shaking in my shoes.

You know, I hope
you're dumb enough

to come after me.

I think you'll find my castle

is pretty well secured.

Your
daughter's college room isn't.

Paid in cash,
no credit card info.

300 million Americans.

400 million guns.

And I'm sure someone out there
would love to lend a hand.

That's enough
to get you in jail.

Worst fucking idea, indeed.

You know
they'll find you, right?

Only a matter of time.

Not sure about that.

Half the crimes in this country
never get solved.

Your tax dollars go

to defense contractors--

- drones, missiles, nukes...
- What?

What?

...but those can't
protect you from us.

So you don't like our military?

My sister's pregnant.

- Jesus, Mac.
- I'm-I'm sorry, everybody.

The real enemy lies within.

Taking our jobs,
taking our land,

taking our women.

While they're overseas wiping out
those camel jockeys,

we can handle
all the Blacks and yellows

and the nigger-loving,
money-hungry Jews as well.

- Fucking sick.
- If our so-called leaders

won't speak up for us,

our rifles will.

They've located the register,

and they're patching through
the security feed.

Okay, look, if you are

behind these attacks,
I'm gonna speak on behalf

of the families
you've destroyed.

You're a coward.

You're a hack,
an attention seeker.

The invisible
army is ready to fight.

Don't kill yourselves, boys.

Your pain's not a weakness.

It's a weapon.

Time to use it.

Hello?

Okay, they got him.

The call began
at 8:21 in Somerset,

ended at 8:29
five miles southwest.

A minute later,
the chip went dead,

but the phone's GPS matches
that of a Chevy Silverado,

license plate
Alpha, Lima, Xray,

eight, zero, eight.

Registered to
a David Lee Hicks.

He's an NRA member
and a legal owner of an AR-15,

an AK-47
and a bunch of hunting rifles.

He's also a member of the local
branch of Three Percenters.

He hates government,
liberals and Jews.

This is Somerset commander.

We got a comms van
and tactical gear

ready for you on the tarmac.

Please advise ETA.

What is it, Eleanor?

The NRA? The Three Percent?

Our guy's a loner,
not a joiner.

Okay.

Your objection is duly noted.

A man on a mission
does not stop for falafel.

This is not our killer.
This isn't our case.

Let someone else
take care of it.

I can't. I'm following orders.

Even when you know
they're wrong?

Power is disputed
between people who deserve it

and people who adore it.

It's a perpetual fight.

I can't say we're winning.

Right now,
we got to stay in the ring.

Sir, with all due respect...

Oh, goddamn it, Eleanor!
You're following orders, too!

They're heading down

Wisconsin Avenue, car 17.

Intercept at Friendship Heights.

Copy that.

Jesus, it's fucking cold.

Okay.

O.K. Corral.

You owned that moron, man.

Shit's going down after this.

Guys, now he's thanking the
cops for protecting his kid.

These fucking guys--
never risk anything,

and they think the world
spins around them.

Right, 'cause when
you're on TV,

all the pigs come running.

But who the fuck's
protecting our kids? Huh?

Who the fuck's
protecting our kids?

We're protecting our kids,
you moron.

Well, I'm starving.

Whole police force
shielding a dorm room

while bodies pile up
in the streets.

He doesn't know
what's coming to him.

"Invisible army" is trending.

This is a game changer, guys.

Something has to happen.

Okay, so shampoo?

Yes, and some Whitestrips.

- Yeah.
- Please.

- Okay.
- Oh, candy!

I know who's paying.

Fucking light beer, light beer,

light beer, light beer.

Who owns this place,
the Mormons?

Shh.

I'll take that for you.

Let's go to a fucking bar.

Ah, you'll get drunk
and start showing off.

I prefer to stay out
of trouble.

I'll meet you in the car?

Um, did you get
the pills for your dad?

- I'll be right back.
- Mm-hmm.

Sir?

Hi.

- What's that?
- Um, it's... Can you...

Not your night, huh?

Sir, can you come with me, please?

Speak up, girl.
I can't hear you.

Just-just come
with me this way, sir.

- I-Is this a survey?
- No, no, no.

Um, I just... We...

Can you... Can you come with me
really quickly, please?

Well, I'm in a rush.

I have to go home.
My-my wife...

Yeah, that's-that's all...
That's okay. That's okay.

M-My wife is sick,
and I'm in a rush.

Yeah, I-I just
need you to come with me.

- I-I really can't.
- Sir, I need .

- I really don't have that much time.
- Sir, come with me now!

My wife... my-my wife
is waiting for me.

Now!

- FBI!
- Drop your weapon!

Fuck you!

Drop it now!

Drop it!

- Falco!
- We're good!

Oh, my God.

FBI!

Eyes on me!

Fuck.

- Fuck!
- I need you to drop the weapon

and show me those hands.

- You fucking nigger!
- I don't need that.

I need you to drop the weapon
and get those hands up.

Get the fuck out of here!

Get the fuck out of this place!

Drop your weapon
and show me your hands.

I'm gonna blow
your fucking brains out.

David, drop the weapon
and get those hands up!

No nigger's gonna...

For the last time,
just fuck off.

Hey, don't fucking
talk to me like that.

I need to know what you did,

I need to know who's involved,
and I need to know...

He's basically saying
it's a prank gone wrong.

Tracey confirmed it.

The army's not invisible.
It just doesn't exist at all.

There's no organization,
no communications.

You fucking tell us something...

Just some copy-and-paste

conspiracy bullshit
on a Facebook page

with 23 likes.

And that call to Kittridge

caused serious
collateral damage.

Mr. Lammark,
did you give the order

to share the mall footage
with "The Kittridge Show"?

It was not my strategy.

I advised that the plan
was risky and flawed.

But this was
your investigation?

- You had overall control?
- Yes.

Was it also under your command
that the public

were encouraged to call in
without even limited screening?

Yes, ma'am.

Just a half hour
after the show ended,

two teenagers shot
two people dead

and wounded three more
before taking their own lives.

In Boston,
a Molotov cocktail was thrown

through the window
of Temple Israel,

causing the janitor
life-changing injuries.

Do you accept responsibility
for these crimes?

We all know
what's going on here.

This is not about
the deaths of young men.

This is about the ambitions
of old ones.

Do you know the name
of the killer?

I know he's someone who's lived
off the grid for obviously...

Mr. Lammark,
please answer the question.

Do you know his profession?
His place of residence?

Not yet.

It seems that,
under your command,

information is no cure
for ignorance.

Perhaps if you'd paid
more attention to people

who were qualified to help.

This internal report
suggests that

you've been taking your lead
from a police officer

with no investigative experience,

rejected by the Bureau,

with a long and proven
record of addiction.

Am I right?

Well, that's not what
I took from her application.

I saw a fiercely honest,
highly motivated person.

While everyone else
was helping residents

flee a burning building,
Officer Falco was the only one

with the presence of mind
to film them doing it.

Had our perpetrator been
amongst those exiting,

it would've been solely
down to her.

I know talent when I see it.
It's a pivotal part of my job.

Perhaps, Mr. Lammark,
we should consider

whether your pursuit
of new talent

is because you know
your own is failing.

You've been
a fine public servant,

and you've fought your illness
with courage, but...

Okay, okay, okay.

I know this man.

I know how to find him.

You can fire me.

You get your sacrifice.

You keep me,
you will get your killer.

What do you want?

♪ Black dogs
and black crows... ♪

It's everywhere.

What's it been, 45 minutes?

They had
the press release ready.

"Lammarked man."

"Lammark could piss
his own pants,

still not find out who did it."

- "Lammark..."
- Listen, don't read that mess.

Assholes are attracted to
comments like flies to shit.

Yeah.

Who?

What?

Come on.

It's Morales.

I'm to report at 7:00 a.m.,

and he's requesting
your passwords.

Morales.

He's good.

We tried hard.

But we got nothing.

Sir, um...

Eleanor.

They used you as the rope.

You're not the hangman.

All right.

Oh, shit.

Time to go home.

Oh. Good to see you
taking it so well.

Come on.
Not in front of the kids.

- Yeah.
- Hmm?

I got to pay.

No, no, no. This is on them.

Thanks for the drinks, guys.

- You got it?
- Yeah, yeah.

Okay.

Thirty years of service.
Un-fucking-believable.

♪ I watch her
walk away from me ♪

♪ Through the fields

♪ And the evening trees

♪ By the river
that runs to the sea... ♪

I'm coming.

What the fuck is...

You know what
I couldn't wrap my head around

is how you could be
in two places at once.

And then it hit me.

You're outsourcing.

Give me that.

Hey, hey, be careful.

You painted the living room

with the guys from DeLuxe
on March 12th.

And then,
for the next two days,

you gave the keys to someone
else to finish the bedrooms.

That's how you made time
for the Ultraviolet job

on March 13th and March 14th.

So my question is:

Who the fuck
did you give them to?

What am I, a suspect here?

'Cause I think I need to call
my fucking lawyer right now.

- No, you...
- Just tell her the fucking truth!

Sorry to wake you so early.

I just... I figured
you'd want a head start.

I started monitoring his comms,
and I made the connection.

Desmond, the baby,

was a distraction technique
all along.

Okay, I've been
gaming the system.

Taking more jobs than
I can handle.

Calling in other guys--
Armenians, Mexicans, Poles.

Very equal-opportunity of you.

Well, everybody got
their fair cut.

And with these
new regulations and shit,

even they got expensive.

Till I found this list.

Ex-cons, guys with a record

nobody would hire.

Get the fuck out of here!

The dog! Come on!

Fucking dog.

These guys,
they work for next to nothing,

as long as you don't ask 'em
too many questions.

And believe me, you don't want
to chat with these guys anyway.

I would always bring in lunch.
All right, that way, they could

- work through the day.
- Mm-hmm.

And there's this one guy,
real particular.

No meat, no dairy.

Like some kind
of goddamn fucking monk.

So, one day, I ask him: "Why?"

He says he used to work
in a slaughterhouse downstate.

After that,
never could eat meat again.

I only knew him as Dean.

Tall guy, always wearing a cap.

It's him.

He stopped answering.

I stopped calling.

Phone's a burner.
It's been dead for months.

There's only three
slaughterhouses downstate.

Look, I was scared.

I didn't want to get arrested.

I was scared this guy
would come after me.

I got a fucking family.

He's out back.

- Can I ask you guys some questions?
- Okay.

Um, does this man
look familiar to you?

Excuse me. Gentlemen.

I'd just like a moment
of your time, please.

I'm with the FBI.

This guy is wanted
in connection

with a multiple,
multiple homicide.

I'm wondering
if any of you guys

might have seen him before.

Take a look. He was here
probably a decade ago or more.

Maybe? No?

Maybe works here still.

No.

But I didn't start here
till 2014.

You guys need to talk to...

Hey, Ramona!

Ramona, come over here.

This guy look familiar?

Familiar?
That's Dean fucking Possey.

Kept his head down. No trouble.

Didn't like to socialize.

But Alonso,
the supervisor back then,

he was always teasing Dean.

Called him Quasimodo

'cause his head had
a creepy shape.

Nasty, stupid shit.

And then one night,
back around '98,

they share the last shift
on the hamburger sector.

We get in the next morning,
and Alonso's all ground up

at three eighths of an inch.

Dean said he trippedand fell in
the grinder, but...

we all knew it was him.

He went to the can for it, actually,

but he was out after two years.

The case was
reopened in December '99.

He was paroled
with support letters

from Colonel Leopold Stamper
and General Benjamin Tusk.

Both men served
with Possey's father,

Sergeant Arthur Jules Possey,

who was a shooting instructor
for the 75th Rangers.

When he stepped down
as instructor,

he remained the arsenal keeper
until he passed away in 2003.

The prison psychiatrist wrote,

"Awkward young man,
downcast gaze.

Childhood head trauma:
gunshots."

Three months later,

"Extremely sensitive
to sound and light.

"Unable to sleep.

"Prefers solitary confinement
to general population.

Applies for permanent transfer.
Denied."

No credit card,
no home address,

no Social Security.

He's a ghost.

You have
reached your destination.

We have to call Mac.

Not yet.

Calling Mac
is calling the Bureau.

They send tactical,

they blow whatever lead
is waiting in there.

What if he's in there?

Then we're giving him
an extra hour to escape.

He's a trained killer
with a stockpile of weapons.

I am calling Mac right now.

And erase us both
from the case?

Just when we've cracked it?

No, Eleanor.
They put me down like a dog.

Now, I'm gonna carry
that guy's head

right into
the J. Edgar Hoover Building

and write a bestseller
about it.

Guess who's the protagonist.

Fuck!

No. Cool down.

Fuck.

Good evening, Mrs. Possey.

You know who I am?

I know what those plates mean.

I haven't seen him
for a long time.

Sorry.

Arrest me or leave.

I'm not helping you
kill my son.

You can help us
catch him alive.

That's no one else's priority.

Last time he stopped by was...

...during the virus.

Everybody locked
in their houses.

Dean was roaming free.

A nomad king.

I haven't seen him so happy
since he was a child.

Is there anywhere else
he could be hiding?

There's nowhere he couldn't.

He used to stay in camps,
then parks.

Then he started sleeping
in empty houses.

I always knew that, um...

he would eventually
get into trouble, but...

I never expected
anything like this.

Mrs. Possey, who shot him?

We did.

Dean was a great little kid.

He was funny and smart.

And always wanted to help,
so Arthur would send him

out into the woods
to collect the targets.

That day...

they didn't realize
he was still out there.

Bang.

Two pellets
got him in the head.

Six years old--
can you imagine?

He was laid up
for almost a year.

Nearly died.

Now I wish he did.

We never forgave each other.

I blamed him for not checking.

He blamed me
'cause it was my watch.

We were both right.

Dean was never
the same after that.

Still smart,
but he started hating school

and birthday parties,
which he used to love.

Kids can be cruel, you know.

So your husband trained him
to defend himself?

Not only.

He wanted to give him
a future in the Army.

And, uh...

and Dean was talented.

He just wasn't violent.

Not back then.

He liked to look
through the scope

at insects and birds.

He'd spend hours lying
in the grass with his rifle

just looking at the moon.

Not surprisingly,
they rejected him.

"Unfit for service."

That broke Arthur's heart.

Sir...

No, don't!

He'll shoot you. Don't move.

He'll kill you.

He will kill you.

You said you could help.

How?

How?!

You said that
you could keep him alive,

so what can you do?

The horn was for him?

Yes.

- That means he trusts you.
- Yes.

Here's what you're gonna do.

Come get my phone.

Get my gun.

Get his, too.

Dean!

She's here to help!

She says she's off the case.

No one knows they're here.

I believe her, and I think
that you should, too.

With your medical history,
she can keep you out of jail.

You'd be going to Dalloway.

It's a facility in the woods.

I mean, Dean, come on.

It's got to stop.

Look what you've done.

You must surrender.

Son?

If you won't go with them...

...come with me.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck.

I always thought
I'd die before her.

L-Listen, Dean.

- My name is Eleanor.
- Don't.

Don't do that.
Don't use your bullshit

police academy
tactics training on me.

I'm not that guy.

I'm not some drugged-out nutjob

you can stall
by agreeing with me

and using my first name
like we're neighbors.

You came here to kill me,
not to borrow a cup of sugar.

So don't tell me
you care for me,

'cause I can see
that you don't.

Your one chance
at a painless release

is not to lie
like everybody else.

Well, you're wrong.

They brought me in because they
thought I'd understand you.

- That I could empathize.
- Finally.

I kill 200 people,
then someone gives a shit.

You making any progress?

Well, I'm here.

And I'm not afraid of dying.

Sometimes I hate myself
so much that I want to die.

And sometimes I think
it'd be a lot easier

to love myself more

if everyone else
was blown off the map.

But they won't be.

This doesn't hurt, Dean.

You are entertainment.

You're time on screen.

They measure you in clicks.

And they want more.

More action, more blood.

Change the narrative.
Go to jail.

Just if you can
explain to everyone

why it made sense to you

to grab a weapon
and start shooting people...

What doesn't make sense
about it?

People make so much noise.

Year after year, shouting
at some stupid fireworks,

as if silence and darkness
were enemies to defeat.

Go back to your fucking caves.

At night, there are
so many lights on

you can't even see the stars.

I want time. I want space.

They want things.

Fuck them.

You've either got to be
very stupid or very asleep

to find this game entertaining.

People scrubbing,

cleaning up other people's shit
for 12 hours a day

for a handful of green paper?

Not me.

Not anymore.

Believe me, I, um... I know
what you're talking about.

I just wish
we'd had this conversation

before you crossed the line.

I went to
the slaughterhouse today.

There was a woman, Ramona.

She seemed fond of you.

Yeah.

She wasn't bad.

That place, though...

One morning,
after an all-nighter,

I traced the cow's path backwards.

Started in the burger section,
went through cutting,

saw the cows getting skinned
and cut in two,

then the cows getting
the bolt to the head.

Then I followed a truck
back to the farm.

Jumped a fence,

walked around the lake,
and there they were.

Magnificent.

They seemed grateful
for their existence.

They didn't want to change.

Didn't want to evolve.

They just wanted to be there, breathing.

To live and die,

then dissipate
back into the whole.

Isn't that what we all want?

Why don't you just go away?

I'm sure there's a place
you can go live

like the cows out on the farm.

Nah.

Everywhere you go
belongs to someone.

Everywhere you go,
you got to have money.

They-they got to know
who you are.

They... they're always
checking up on you.

They're always asking.

They're always watching.

Now they got drones,

satellites spying
from outer space.

This whole planet's
a fucking prison.

Why do I have to play
by your rules?

I don't know how to make money.

I don't know
how to win votes.

But who has the real power?

Life and death
from a thousand feet away.

I may not find peace,
but I can deliver retribution.

Retribution is not
what you need.

What, then?

Love?

Yes.

Some of us have been
so mistreated

we don't even know what it's like
to feel good anymore.

They burned
our bridges to pleasure.

But I think
they can be rebuilt.

Nah.

Too late for me.

That train's gone.

I appreciate the effort, though.

Don't worry. There's no next.

You're still alive
for a reason.

You said you wanted to help me,
well, this is how.

I want to go over there.

I want to lay down next to her.

I want to hug her
like when I was a kid.

And you're gonna wait
till I fall asleep.

I'm real tired. It'll be quick.

Then you're gonna
shoot me in the head.

I don't want my corpse
all over the news.

So you take that can
of gasoline,

you pour it over us
and set us on fire.

When the barbecue's done,

you call your friends
and you pick up your trophy.

That a deal?

Eleanor?

Yes, Dean.

I'd kindly and respectfully
execute you.

You think I'm stupid?

No. Dean.

Don't. Dean!

Stop!

Help! Help!

Mrs. Possey, open the door.

Dean!

Stop! Dean, I'm not wired.

Someone must have heard
the shots.

I'm not wired!

Mrs. Possey, police.

Dean, stop!

Listen to me!

Dean!

Fuck.

Shots fired!
Shots fired from the shed!

Dean!

Why?

Some kid just lost their father
all 'cause you're conflicted?

Dean, you have to stop.

These people have families.

You are giving them decades
of suffering

while everything you hate
stays the same.

Fuck!

I know you're listening to me.

Kill me if you're not.

You're the one
who wants to stop.

Five minutes ago, you asked me

to shoot you in the head
and burn your body.

That proves how tired you are

and how unnecessary
all of this is.

Look at me!

Mr. Possey, you're surrounded!

Get out of the shed right now
with your arms raised!

You said it was over.

Untie me,
and let me handle them.

You know I'll do
what's best for you.

Mr. Possey,

I want you to walk
out of there right now,

and I want you
to do it slowly, okay?

Come the fuck out, asshole!

Dean.

Stay with me. Stay with me.

My boss's car.

By now, they know I'm here.

If they know I'm alive,
then they won't fire.

Come out, motherfucker!

Dean. Dean.

Stay with me. Stay with me.

The minute that you get booked,

I will make sure that
you get the help you need.

Medication.

That shit works.

You'll sleep like a baby.

And when you open
your eyes again, I will be

right there to help you
get through this.

I'm gonna give you
to the count of five.

Dean, Dean, you don't
have to untie me,

but just stay like this.
Stay with me. Stay with me.

Four!

Put that down, please.

Three!

- Get out!
- Two!

Dean, put that down,
or you have to kill yourself.

One!

I'm sorry, but you have to.
Do it!

Time's up, asshole!

Stay right where you are!

- Show me your hands!
- Don't fucking move!

Wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait!

Hold! Hold!

Eleanor?

He's alive.
He's wounded, but he's alive.

What the hell happened?
Why didn't you call me?

I tried. I really tried.

- What?
- Lammark wouldn't let me.

All units,

we need more men on the ground.

State troopers out to the river.

- Distribute weapons and vests.
Copy that.

Chopper unit, stand by.

Canine team, looks
like we picked up a scent.

Copy that.
What's your location?

We're in sector nine,
heading south.

We have footprints,

and looks like fresh blood
in the snow.

Copy that.
Rerouting all mobile units.

Sector nine, factory site.

Eleanor, we went through
your debriefing,

and we came up
with this strategy.

Collectively.

We hope you'll be happy
to sign.

The entire operation
will remain classified.

As far as
the record's concerned,

this was an authorized plan.

BPD and the Bureau cracked
the case, got our killer,

with the state government's
full support.

Period.

Not a word about
what happened in that house,

not a word
of your history with drugs.

However,
despite your previous record,

we all agreed that you've
more than proved yourself,

so the Bureau would like
to offer you a permanent post

as intelligence analyst.

Is this your way
of buying my silence?

You really expect me
to help cover up

your incompetence,
your lack of judgment,

your willingness
to put lives at risk?

He's trying
to help you, Eleanor.

You were suspended.

Lammark had been fired.

But still,
you illegally contacted Lang,

interrogated him
without a lawyer

and set off
without authorization,

leading directly
to 17 extra fatalities.

So, instead of letting
the press make you a hero

for 15 minutes,
then destroying your life,

we're offering you
a way forward.

I want you to honor Lammark

with a posthumous
Medal of Valor.

And I want you to transfer his
full pension to his husband.

We can do that.

I don't want to be an analyst.

Make me special agent.
You know I deserve it.

Done.

Any tricks, now or later,
and I will let everyone know

that you have blood
on your hands.

Thanks, Eleanor.

I'm glad
we understand each other.

We don't.

Good work, Falco.

Thank you, sir.

We get this guy,

this all goes away,

and we can both do the job
we were meant to.