All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] The Blacklist.S02E06.The Mombasa Cartel (1)

You are Samwel Zuma?

I am.

I heard you have a big mouth.

No!

Service de chambre.

Come!

Good morning, Mr. Batouala.

Will you be dining
at the table this morning?

- In bed, I think.
- Very good, sir.

_

S02E06
The Mombasa Cartel

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com

Tigers in India
have become less abundant

in recent years due to excessive hunting.

The remaining big cats
are now concentrated

in tiny, isolated groups,
leading to inbreeding,

which weakens their resistane to disease.

So nostalgic.

The charming and yet tragic naiveté,

as if these creatures
will somehow flourish

if Harlan and Jack can
just manage

to relocate a breeding female.

The Mombasa Cartel.

- Poachers?
- Not poachers, Lizzy... traffickers.

The poor devils who do the killing

are the smallest of cogs
in a very large machine.

And the Mombasa Cartel
is the worst of the lot.

They operate behind
an impenetrable veil of secrecy,

enforced by brute terror

and a rat's nest of corporate fronts...

Subsidiaries of shells
inside numbered accounts.

This is going to take some convincing.

The FBI's job is to protect people.

Granted.

Let's forget about the
animals for a moment...

The wholesale extinctions,
the impact on the environment.

Let's just consider the human toll...

The thorough corruption
of local authorities,

political assassinations,

the massacres of entire villages

and wildlife compounds...

Eradicated for the most base
of all possible motives...

Profit.

Hundreds of billions of dollars a year

in blood money... human blood money.

This is important to you.

Someday the creatures on that program

will be akin to unicorns and griffins...

A fairy-tale bestiary
written in past tense,

and no one is lifting a finger to stop it.

Why not, Lizzy?

Why not us?

I'm sorry, this is
a controlled class medication.

I can't refill it without a prescription.

And I told you, you're...

You're not refilling it...
You're replacing it.

The pills were stolen from my car.

- You file a police report?
- Yeah. Yeah. Of course I did.

Look... I'll get in touch with my doctor.

I'll, uh, I'll be right back.

Next.

Over the last few years,

high-ranking poachers
have disappeared without a trace

from the Jalloh and Yeboah clans,

the Bholas in India,

and the Rocha Cartel in Bolivia.

Now, no one's taken credit yet,

but according to Reddington,
the Mombasa Cartel

is working to corner
the illegal-wildlife trade.

Sorry.

Four days ago, a dead body washed up

south of Petropavlovsk
on the Kamchatka Peninsula...

Flayed and skinned
with surgical precision,

according to the local medical examiner.

- Does the victim have a name?
- Joseph Batouala...

Kenyan, part of the Wanjiku Cartel,

the alleged mastermind behind
the 2013 elephant massacre

at Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe.

The park's watering holes
were dosed with cyanide,

killing 300 elephants
and thousands of other animals.

- And this is the work of our victim?
- Victims...

High-ranking officials from half a dozen
other cartels have also disappeared.

According to Reddington,

these gangs are just small
fish in a very big pond.

By far, the most destructive is
the Mombasa Cartel.

Reddington. I have to take this.

They are ruthless, secretive,
and highly organized.

It's estimated that the Mombasa Cartel

smuggles about a billion dollars
in contraband per year,

from Ivory and Hides to the illegal import

of exotic pets to traditional
folk remedies.

Remedies. For what?

Anything... from blindness
to erectile dysfunction.

For instance, in Vietnam,
the horn of a rhinoceros

is believed to cure cancer,

so it commands a price
of about $9,000 per gram.

Where was Batouala last seen alive?

- Hotel d'Argent, Paris.
- Paris.

And yet his body washes ashore
on the russian coast?

Do you want to tell
Reddington, or should I?

Oh, Matthew.

That's the best one yet.

He's... he's beautiful.

I've arranged drinks
for you with Geoff Perl.

Who will be joining us?
Bill Gateswaenfett?

No, just you and Geoff.

Despite being the 33rd richest
man on the planet

and the C.E.O of Deckard Capital,

Geoff is a passionat advocate
for wildlife protection.

He's also an expert
on the illegal-animal trade.

If anyone knows anything
about the Mombasa Cartel,

it'll be Geoff.

I'm sorry.
I'm still getting past the whole

"you're buddies with Geoff Perl" thing.

We're not buddies. I don't have buddies.

Geoff and I simply share
a number of interests...

Among them, the protection
of endangered animals.

I act as a bundler for his charities.

And what does he do in return?

Nothing nefarious, I assure you.

Advice, information,
the occasional stock tip.

One hand washes the other.

There we go.

Queen to B4. Check.

Your name is Judy Trierweiler.

You're an activist,
investigative reporter,

researching an exposé
on the Mombasa Cartel.

You post under the screen name "Elsa."

And when is this happening?

Tonight at La Porte Rouge,

18th street and Columbia, 10:00-ish.

Dress down.

- What is it?
- Uh, Trierweiler, right?

Judy Trierweiler, aka "Elsa."

You all right?

- Geoff Perl.
- You must be Elsa.

Seen your posts. Like your style.

A friend tells me you want some
inside dope on the Mombasa Cartel.

- I've had a hard time getting a toehold.
- Welcome to the party.

My foundation's had the
mombasas in our sights

since our inception...

Public enemy number one,

the worst of the worst and very smart.

The crafty bastards at the top
keep their hands clean

by financing their wet work

through a hundred shells and offshores.

Never been able to crack that firewall.

- If you want to give it a try...
- Mm.

Got to warn you, though...
It could be very dangerous.

- I can handle myself.
- I'm sure you can.

I wager you can handle
just about anything.

I knew Geoff would adore you.

You're a dead ringer for
the last two of his three wives.

Oh? What did his first one look like?

More like me than you, I'm afraid.

Geoff is a savant of sorts...

Married into a small fortune,
built it into Deckard.

Sits on the boards of half
a dozen tech companies,

owns a big piece of all of them.

Then plows millions
into animal-related causes.

What did he have on the Mombasas?

Just one access point...

Lee Chung, Emerson-Concorde Imports.

- Who are you? Why you do this?
- FBI.

We were wondering if you wouldn't mind

assisting us in an investigation
we're conducting.

What kind of investigation?

The kind of investigation where,
if you don't help us out,

I just yell, "gun!" And we beat
your ass to the curb.

I'm unarmed.

You gonna cooperate?

Please say "no."

What?

Nothing.

You were late to work again.

You seem a little edgy.

I'm fine. Thanks, mom.

Chung's business
specializes in the importation

of game meats and animal parts
from endangered species.

He's willing to roll over on everyone else

but claims he doesn't know
anything about the Mombasa Cartel.

You show him the contraband customs
had tagged in his warehouse?

Yeah. And the estimated fees
Aram worked up.

- It's a lot.
- Plus 112 charges pending.

And that didn't rattle him?

Whoa, oh, flag up.
Looks like we got another one.

Pulled up this morning
in a fisherman's net

in Hokkaido, Japan... same M.O... skinned.

A local M.E. I.D.'d him
from the serial numbers

found on an artificial hip...
Alejandro Gomez, Bolivian.

- Rocha Cartel?
- According to Bolivian police and WCS,

rumors are that Gomez worked for...

The Mombasa Cartel. Chung broke.

It turns out our original victim
was not with the Wanjiku Cartel.

He defected a year ago to the Mombasas.
Somebody's poaching the poachers.

Tell him what you said.

I said you wouldn't be alone.

Like they care.

She say anything? Yeah, she's waiting now.

Do you want me to go get her and
let her tell you herself?

- Yep.
- Thanks for the 24-hour reprieve.

I met with Reddington yesterday.

- You told him?
- I started to, but...

no, I didn't.

That's too bad. It would've been
better coming from you.

I hope you understand
I don't have a choice.

Neither do I.

Freeze! On the ground!

Your father called.

He found another "friend" for Matthew.

I just got back.

- Oh, dear lord.
- Listen to you go on.

I'm the one who does all the abductions.

I'm the one who takes all the risks

while the two of you sit around and...

We're a family.

Everyone does his part.

The poachers your father identifies

deserve what they get.

You should be proud to help him...

And to help your brother, too.

I know it's hard.

But you know I love you.

Peter... my rock.

Hey! Hey, mister!

You forgot...

- My hat.
- Oh, my gosh.

I can't believe I forgot it.
It's my favorite.

Thank you.
I'm sorry. What's your name?

- Zoe.
- Zoe.

Thank you so much, Zoe.

Oh, no, really. I can't.

- No, no, no. Please. I insist.
- No, I'm good.

All right, then.

I'm Kenneth, by the way...
Kenneth Rathers.

Hello, Kenneth.

Thank you again, Zoe.

I am quite fond of this hat.

Let me see.

Very snappy, Kenneth. Later!

Taking into account
estimated time of death,

I-I've programmed a simulation

illustrating point of origin

by running the tidal and
ocean-current data for the dates

our two floaters washed up
in Japan and Russia.

Check it out.

The orange one is Gomez.
And as you can see,

both bodies were dumped somewhere

off the coast of Sitka, Alaska.

Sitka was the location of
the animal underground network,

a militant animal-rights group.

- "Was"?
- Yes.

In 1971, their leader, Timothy Carlyle,

along with six others,
were tried and convicted

on five counts of homicide

for stalking and killing grizzly poachers

up at Katmai National Park.

I remember that case.

Became a bit of
a cause célèbre, as I recall.

Yes, the Sitka Seven.

Seven... why's it always seven?

After the bust, the whole thing imploded.

By all accounts, the rest of the group

were more or less hangers-on...
Flakes, useful idiots.

Go deep on animal underground.

See what became of every
member of the group...

Arrests, activities, associates...

Especially those still in Sitka.

- What about chung?
- Cut him loose.

Put a tail on him
and see where he leads us.

Ressler, get packed.

I want you in Sitka
for face-time with anyone samar turns up.

He's been on the FBI's
ten most wanted list for years,

but authorities may be finally closing in

on notorious international criminal

Raymond "Red" Reddington.

Acting on an anonymous tip,
police arrested a man

they say is a close associate
of Reddington's

and who may be able to lead them

to the elusive concierge of crime.

Was all this really necessary?

Tell you what.

How about I find someone
to follow you around 24-7

and see how you like it?

You know as well as I

this has nothing to do
with being followed.

This is about being found out.

You're hiding something.

Why else risk my capture?

- Ezra's not gonna talk.
- I know that, but you didn't.

And now you're holding him in a cement box

under a no-contact order.

Congratulations, Lizzy.

You've plugged the hole,
but the dam will fail.

It's only a matter of time.

Come on, buttercup.

You just know we're gonna wear
this old thing out

if we keep playing it.

How about "Wheels on the bus"?

Okay.

Peter's coming tomorrow.

He's bringing a new friend
for you to play with.

isn't that great?

Look at you, Kris Kringle!

Time to get out now,
before you shrivel up like a raisin.

My, my.

Look at my big boy!

- Ressler.
- Chung disappeared this morning.

Somebody shot the agent surveilling him
with a tranquilizer dart.

Do you think he might have been abducted?

Possibly. We're not sure.
He might have fled.

We flagged his passport.

We're tracking all international flights.

We'll keep you posted.

At this point, the closest former
animal underground members

that we could find are in Anchorage.

Any prospects?

Outside of one arrest
for possession 15 years ago,

- they look clean.
- The Ranch.

Oh, yeah.

And make a run out to... Igaluk Ranch.

It's the former location of their commune.

Property was picked up at auction
after the big bust by Wendigo, LLC.

I'll check it out.

The two vics were skinned antemortem.

Presuming Sitka is the dumping site...

They were transported alive.

You think sedated?

No doubt, but, still, customs, security...

Someone would have...

But, plus, how did they get
onto a commercial flight

without proper documentation?

Unless you don't fly commercial.

Homeland security is loathe to
inconvenience the rich and powerful.

Pull information on private jets

departing the same days
our victims were abducted.

Crosscheck tail numbers.

See if you can find a pattern.

Hello?

Private property.

I'm sorry.

- I didn't know anyone was here.
- Well, now you do.

There's signs posted along the road.

- You'd best leave.
- Donald Ressler. FBI.

- You mind if I ask you some questions?
- What kind of questions?

About the former owners,
the animal underground.

- You heard of them?
- Yeah, a little. They're gone now.

Been gone a long time.

- Now it's just us up here.
- Us?

Me. My son Peter.

- Anyone else?
- No.

Howdy.

You must be Peter.

Peter Kincaid. And you are?

- Donald Ressler.
- He's with the FBI.

Anything you can tell me
about the former owners?

Never met them.

A bunch of them went to jail...
Right?... long time ago.*

Sorry you came all the way
out here for nothing.

That's okay.

- Thanks for the cooperation.
- Yep.

What do you have there?

Goat.

Didn't the people who used to be here
have a bunch of goats?

Lots of people got goats.

- You mind if I take a look?
- Just watch your fingers. He bites.

Paris... two hours
after Batouala disappears,

a chartered citation, CJ3S,

leaves a private airstrip
outside the city.

Sao Paulo... another citation
departs 45 minutes

- after Alejandro Gomez is abducted.
- Same pilots?

Well, I got two different names here,

but both check out as bogus,
so I'd say yes.

He's comfortable
behind the stick of a citation.

- Why change horses?
- Right.

So I checked local airports and got
a third hit.

Another citation, which departed yesterday
from Westchester at 5:12 p.m.

Chung.

- Did they file a flight plan?
- Bogus.

Uh, all over the map...
Uh, Tokyo, Dubai, Paris.

Who chartered the planes?

Three separate jets,
three separate companies...

One domiciled in Oslo,

uh, the second in Belgium,

uh, the third in South Africa.

But they all share
a common corporate parent...

Or should I say a common corporate

"second uncle cousin sister once removed"?

What do you know about
a company called Wendigo, LLC?

Wendigo.

What have you found
that connects him the cartel?

Not sure. All we know is Wendigo controls

chartered jets used in the abductions

and they own a piece of
property in the same area

where the bodies were dumped
in the ocean... Sitka, Alaska.

Used to be a commune for a group
called animal underground.

Ressler went up there to ask
some questions.

He's fallen out of contact.

Anchorage division's scrambling HRT,

and Samar and I are set to
rendezvous with them in Juneau.

In the meantime,

if you can dig up any
names behind Wendigo...

Lizzy, be careful up there.

There's been a change of plans.

- Did you call in?
- What is happening?

Is anybody gonna come?

What the hell is that music?

No one's here.

They left us to die.

Remember, Matty,

only the animals that are tagged.

Happy hunting.
I'll be at the house with mom.

Hey! Stop! Stop!

Where the hell are you running?!

Where are we? What do you know?

Nothing. I don't know anything.

Like you, I just...

How long did it take?

- To get here from the Ranch...
- How long did it take?

10, 15 minutes... no more.

I passed a gas station
on the highway east of here.

If we can get back to it...

Ohh. What's the matter with you?

- I'm fine. Nothing.
- You looking for your pills?

They took them. They took everything.

What are you... a junkie?

You're a cop.

I'm not a junkie.

That what all junkies say.

I've been trying to
reach you for six hours.

You know this is when I meditate.

A man from the FBI showed up
asking questions.

- Peter had to take him out.
- What?

He had no choice. He saw Chung.

- Is he dead?
- Well, he will be.

- We gave him to Matthew.
- Okay, listen to me.

This time can't be like the others...

No skinning, no stuffing, no evidence.

Tell Peter. He'll know what to do.

Matthew won't like that.

I don't care if Matthew likes it.

I should have tipped off the police
when he began his little hobby.

And have him locked up in some hellhole?

He wouldn't have lasted a month,
and you know it.

He's a child.

- He's your child.
- I know that.

Tell Peter to call me when it's done.

Namaste, Geoff.

Any intelligence on who's up there?

Two confirmed...

Rosemary, aka "Skye," Kincaid
and her son, Peter.

The woman checks out as an
associate of animal underground.

Yeah, a local girl... got knocked up

by one of their members,
a fella they called "Ace."

Her son Pete is an
expert guide and tracker.

- Anybody else?
- There could be.

Word is, Rosie was pregnant
again 40 years ago

and insisted on giving birth

up at the Ranch...
refused to come in town.

Social services paid her
a visit about eight months in,

tried to convince her
to change her mind...

and reported that
she was no longer with child.

People have talked... hunters and whatnot.

And there's been sightings
of somebody or something else.

Something?

The rumor is it's Rosie's younger son.

FBI. I need to use your phone.

Someone's after me.

Hey.

What is this?

There you are... Sean Salter.

You went by the name "Ace" back then.

You left animal underground

two years before the Sitka seven killings

and subsequent trials... lucky, that.

But, then, you've always had
a talent for well-timed exits.

Well, it seems, Ace,

there's still some freaks
up there living in the woods,

skinning people and
dumping them in the bay.

Poachers... not people,

responsible for the decimation

of hundreds of wild and
endangered species.

Yes. Horrific.

And if that was your endgame,
I'd be writing you

another sizable contribution
to keep up the good work.

But that isn't the endgame, is it, Geoff?

You see, before I got involved
with your foundation,

I ran a comprehensive background check...

All your business interests,
corporations...

Among them, a rather innocuous
shell called "Wendigo, LLC."

Everything looked fine.

Shame on me.

Turns out Wendigo holds controlling stock

in a small but lucrative concern

called Emerson-Concorde Imports

that you recently identified
to a lovely young friend of mine

as a front for the Mombasa Cartel.

Why would I kill my own people?

You're a businessman.

As long as you were killing
off the competition,

you took the opportunity to clear out

deadwood in your own operation.

The evidence of your guilt is
convoluted but irrefutable.

I simply cannot fathom the journey,

the moral detours necessary
to change a man

who cherished all creatures
great and small

into one who profits from their slaughter.

My motives have never been about profits.

I have more money than I'll ever need.

And there's been no journey, no detours.

I'm the same guy I've always been...

I'm a conservationist.

And as you pointed out, I'm a businessman.

I understand the law of supply and demand.

As long as the market exists...
And it will always exist...

there will be people willing
to meet the demand.

It can't be stopped.

It can be controlled.

A natural monopoly.

Exactly.

These cartels are
completely out of control.

But through a natural monopoly,
the supply curve can be managed.

The short-term demand can be met
without threatening

the long-term survival of the species.

Geoff...

that was... breathtaking...

an operatic perversion
of righteous intent.

But your strategy, no matter
how noble the rhetoric,

is betrayed and, inevitably,
defined by your actions.

This isn't about conservation...
It's about consolidation.

We are what we do, Ace.

What do you want?

A list identifying every member and
operative in the Mombasa Cartel,

their business entities,
and distribution networks.

- Or?
- Or I shoot you... here, now.

Hey, Alejandro.

That's a real sweet song.

What do you think, Joe?

Yeah. Me, too.

Status?

Male subject downstairs.

Female... upstairs bathroom.

Already?

I wasn't expecting...

Mama.

FBI!

Get that window!

Freeze!

Don't cry, buttercup.

Everything's gonna be all right.

No!

There it is.

That's everything... the whole cartel.

You know, 29 years ago in Sierra Leone,

there was a farmer named Samwel Zuma

who had the audacity to identify

several low-level Mombasa
operatives to local authorities.

The cartel massacred the entire family...

All but the youngest son.

He was sold to a local ring
of flesh peddlers.

The majority of children
in those circumstances

don't last more than nine months.

He survived eight years.

He was 14 when I found him...

Too old, too tall, too angry and dangerous

to be of any further value.

He was left to die,

chained to a standpipe in the basement

of a squalid brothel in Nairobi...

Branded, burned, barely alive.

So I took him.

Made him well, saw to his education.

He graduated university

with a bachelor's degree
in english literature.

He speaks four languages fluently

and can get by in a half a dozen more.

He is...

splendid.

His name is Dembe...

Dembe Zuma.

Raymond... don't.

That was then.

It serves no purpose to kill him now.

You see that, Geoff?

That is what a good man does.

That is what separates men like him

from men like you...

and me.

I've been thinking about
what to do with you.

To tell you the truth,
I haven't made a decision yet.

The other day was close.

I thought about telling Reddington.

He'd know what to do.

But the truth is,
this is my responsibility...

One way or the other.

I've answered all your questions.

Liz.

You can't hide me forever.

sync and corrected by ninh
www.addic7ed.com