All language subtitles for Breakout.Kings.S01E02.Collected.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+5.1.x264-Cinefeel_track3_[eng]

(whistling tune)

What's that, Xavier, Mozart?

It's Tchaikovsky, boss.

Well, do me a favor, maestro,
(phone ringing)

and tell requisitions we need
a gross of four-inch gauze.

Copy that, boss.

(phone ringing)

(resumes whistling)

This is Dr. Franks.

Well, what do
the regulations say?

The execution is
going down on Friday.

I need to do my
job dead on

with regulations...

MAN: The governor and
the attorney general

both get a copy.
I told you three times.

Man, big day coming up's
even got the warden jumpy.

I'll be happy when it's over.

WOMAN:
Tonight convicted murderer

Tim Slattery will be
the first man

executed in the state
of Connecticut

in the last 30 years.

In a moment, the prison
will conduct

its first of two
electrical checks tonight.

This is done to ensure enough
current is generated

so the execution can be
carried out

in the most efficient
and humane way possible.

(electrical whirring)

MAN (over P.A.):
Stand by for second round
of current checks.

Stand by for second round
of current checks.

(electrical crackling)

Fire!

(alarm blaring)
Fire!

Get me out of here!
I'm burning!

Open it up!
My arm! Oh, my God,
my arm!

OFFICER:
What the hell, Price?

The current check--
made the sparks fly everywhere.

It still really feels
like it's burning.

I'm going to give you
a hit of morphine.

You'll feel warm
for a few seconds,

then off to dreamland.

(grunts)

Enjoy dreamland.

(sighs)

CROWD:
* Amazing grace *

* How sweet the sound *

* That saved a wretch
like me... *

(humming tune)

Hey, I've got the perfect
spot for your banner.

We can hang it on my van.

It's the red van right here.

No, really, we could...

Oh, my God.

(muffled cry)

(crowd continues singing)

Pele passes to Buena Vista,

and over to Burrito Grande.

Back to Shakira!

Is good!
You know, Chee Hoon,

the irony is that on
a real soccer field

you would smash my face
into nothingness,

but here at the table

a man of superior
intellect can read you

and spot your tells
like a poker game.

You talk too much, snowflake.
And you let your goalie
drift to the left too much.

Is good!

I am the winner!

That's 35 clams.

You are the charter member
of the No Joy, No Luck Club.

Round-eyed dick.

Doc.
Hmm?

We got to go to our, uh...
work release situation.

Oh, they need us
again already?

No, no, no, look, not all
of us, just you and me.

Philly got dropped
like an A-bomb.
What do you mean dropped?

Rumor from the women's
wing is that she had
money stashed away.

Checked her accounts
from the prison computer lab.

Seems the Feds didn't seize
all of Philly's assets.

Now her sweet ass-ets
got sent back to
maximum security--

courtesy of Charlie.

That sneaky, sneaky Amazon.

She almost blew
this for us, Shea.

Listen, I cannot leave here.

They have games, they
have basic cable TV.

This morning, I ate
eggs that were only
partially powdered.

(handcuffs clicking)

Think they'll
replace her?

Uncuff 'em.

Raymond, I would just like to
say that I was completely

unaware
that Philly was hiding money.

I cannot attest to whether
or not Shea knew, though.

What?!
You might have.

If we thought you guys knew,
you guys would still

be in a max house.

And since we assume that Philly
was going to use the money

to fund a run,
we doubled her sentence.

And you're lucky she actually
didn't make a move,

or you guys would have
been doubled up, too.

She's on her way back
to Muncie right now.

She blew it.

Who the hell's that?

ZANCANELLI:
That's Philly's replacement.

Same deal as the others.

As long as you're helping us
catch fugitives

you get to finish your time in
Maybelle Minimum Security.

For every convict
we catch,

you get a month
off your bid.

Xavier Price.

Respected family man,
member of his church board,

steady job as
a traveling salesman

of industrial machine parts.

Nothing out of the ordinary
about him, right?

Till he killed her.

Felicia Webster.

Claims he saw a runaway
in need of help.

Picked her up,
was taking her to the shelter

when she tried
to rob him with a
knife at a red light.

In the struggle,
she was killed.

A witness half a block away
saw enough to call the cops.

But not enough
to see what happened.

And his wife stood by his side

while the church paid
his legal fees.

And they bought
that garbage?

Homeboy was clearly
trolling for ass.

Jury bought it, too.

Instead of first-degree murder,

they hit him with
reckless homicide.

Five years.
A nickel? Wish I had that jury.

You're black.
You would have gotten murder.

The point is,
we're not buying

this guy's snake oil.
He's dangerous.

As evidenced by the doctor
he assaulted,

the civilian he carjacked
and murdered

during his escape.

Now we put an alarm
out on his vehicle.

And it's 11 hours
since he ran.

You guys know the stat.

Less than
five percent chance

of capture after 72 hours.

So why run at all?

His prison record's clean.

He'd have gotten out
in two and a half years.

Dude's stupid.

Actually, he's genius.

170 IQ.

170-- that is adorable.
210, muchachos. Just saying.

But while we're on the topic
of how smart I am,

and ipso facto,

the expert psychological
analysis I provide,

not to mention Shea's
street-level gangsta knowledge

which radically comes in handy,

I need to ask, what is
the new girl's super power?

Is it breast vision, you guys?
Come on.

Does she have magic boobs?
Because the last girl who was

in here almost queered the deal
for us. I don't...

Hello.
Hey.

JULIANNE:
All I could find
on Price's church.

All right, grab a file,
get caught up.

Ray, let's take a look at this.

Greetings. I'm Lloyd Low...

Hi. Lloyd Lowery.
Dr. Lloyd Lowery.

Kind of the brains
of the operation.

I'm sorry, I'm
trying to read.
Okay.

So was I, though.

I was trying to read you.

And I was hoping to do
it in somewhat of a
congenial manner,

but since you don't
seem very chatty

let me just cut
to the chase.

You, me

and our Nubian
brother over here--

our fates are intertwined.
So if any one of us tries

to amscray, every one of
us goes back to prison,
sentences doubled.

So let's start again.

Tell me who you are,

so I know who I'm
working with, please.

Breaking and entering,
expert, okay?

Thank you.

That wasn't so hard, was it?

Look... it's really
important that we play
nice together, okay?

I'm new here.

And I need this to work.

You can understand
that, can't you?

CHARLIE:
Okay, so Xavier's church is
connected throughout the world

through missionary work.

Africa, Nicaragua, El Salvador.

Jules, get me a list of their
biggest donors,

if they have any private planes,

resources that they
might use to help a man

they think is innocent
flee the country.

This guy could have
been chillin'

up in Connecticut
in two years, but instead
he goes to live in Nicaragua?

Nah. I'm telling you,

there's something
pressing this guy to run.

Maybe family.

Two years is a long time
when you have kids.

Maybe prison sucks ass.
Don't over-analyze.

It's the first rule
of psychiatry.

We're not going to know why the
man did what he did until we

know the man himself.
So we go talk to his wife.

Exactly.

I'm pretty sure Charlie
was just about to say that,

but thanks for
finishing his sentence.

(humming "1812 Overture")

(woman sobbing)

I'm back.

You see how many people
have come here to support him?

My husband is a good man.

I've been in the car with him
when he's picked up runaways.

Given them money, advice.

How about the
protester he killed?

The prison doc?

You lock a peaceful dog

in a cage with
vicious animals,

and when he
finally gets out,

he snaps at someone

who might put him back in.

And then you blame the dog?

I hope you never find him.

He snapped that
woman's head against
the ground four times.

Erica, we got this.
If you don't mind,
those belong to Xavier.

He's been collecting
them since he was ten.

He's a simple man,
with simple interests.

Just nine months ago,

he took up art.

Would the man you're
characterizing make such

serene and
beautiful pieces?

Oh, that is
certainly motel-worthy.

Lloyd.

(phone rings)

Hey, Jules.

ZANCANELLI:
Okay, hold on.

Protester's van was
spotted driving away
from a clothing drop box

outside a church
in Wilmington, Delaware--

a town on his sales route.

Okay, so he's out of
his prison jumper.

But if he's trying to
get out of the country,

why make a pit stop
in Delaware?

There are drop boxes
all over the place.

JULIANNE:
I had the same question,

so I ran his name for any family

he might have in the area.

There is none.

But I got a hit on an old house

that Price bought for 14 grand

at a county auction
just under a year ago.

He paid a tax lien in cash.

Texting you the address.
Okay, thanks.

I thought you said Julianne
was the best there was.

She should've had that
information way sooner.

An all-cash deal registered

in some hick Delaware county
150 miles from here?

Guy could've had
a swamp in Florida

or a ranch in Texas,
for all we know.

Listen, all I'm saying
is, Philly was a wash.

I don't want any
more problems from the
people that you chose.

(indistinct radio transmissions)
CHARLIE:
Hey!

U.S. Marshals.
What happened here?

Someone torched
the place.

Enough accelerant to
burn half the state.

No one saw anybody

coming or going?

No. Nothing.
What's this?

I don't know-- I
haven't opened it yet.

Well, don't hurt yourself.

Will you
give me that thing?

Melted plastic.

Do you have
forensics on this?
Yeah.

Look, pal, unless you're paying
rent, get out of my space.

Oh, that was...
that was clever.

Yeah? Was it?
Mm-hmm. I liked it.
I liked it a lot.

I like it a lot
more than I like you,
because you are a liar.

Hm, I'm not a liar.
You were lying about
breaking-and-entering,

otherwise you would've
helped Charlie with
that lock right there.

So why don't you
just tell me what
your deal is, please?

My deal is answering to Charlie,
not some mouth-breather.

I have a deviated septum.

So, Price broke out,
killed someone,

gone to a place he owns
and burnt it to the ground?

What the hell's
Xavier up to?

(woman sobbing)

Please...

let me go.

You... can't talk!

You have no voice.

A man should not be put in
the position where he has

to waste perfectly
good property.

(sobbing):
I just want to go home.

You really think I care
about what you want?

You always said
I belonged to you,

but if you kill me...

Oh, you do.

Oh, you do.

You do belong to me.

And after I stop
your last breath,

(sobbing)
you'll belong to
me forever. Okay?

Okay?
(continues sobbing)

Put a rush on it, Nick--
the runner's been out

for 24 hours and we're
still nowhere on this thing.

I'm assuming
nothing from forensics
about the footlocker?

Is the wife still clean?

We're tapping her phone;

we're checking her incoming

and outgoing mail.
Xavier's too smart

to get tripped up
on something like that.

Nothing on the
church accounts.
If they're moving money

to help Price flee,
it's not showing up.

Julianne, check
the property records

in every county
and every state

where Xavier's sales
route took him.

That's... hundreds
of counties.
Yes, and we have

a killer on the loose--
so if it's hundreds of counties,

then I suggest you get to work.

Hey, come here.

I requested you for this team
because you're great

at what you do.

And you were number one
in your class at Glynco

for a reason.
Yeah, and they kicked me out
for a reason, too.

(sighs)

It's just...

after Philly...

I'm afraid that I'm gonna get
kicked out of something again.

That won't happen.

Charlie thinks you're
doing a great job.

He told me that today.

And as long as I'm here,

you're not going anywhere.

Well, I better get back to work.

We need to catch this guy.

(cash register beeping,
clacking)

(indistinct police radio
transmission)

This is what he tried to steal?

Yeah, he switched
stickers on me.

Tried to trick me into paying
five bucks for a $30 maul.

But I wouldn't let go of it,
so he smashed me in the face

with the handle and took off
'cause a customer came in.

Pulling a scam like this,
Xavier's desperate, low on cash,

so where do you think he got
the little money he already has?

Clothing drop he got
his clothes from was

right next to a church;
he might even

break into
a poor box.
I'll bet Erica can't.

You so much look at a
screwdriver or nail, anything
that you can use as a weapon,

and you get a one-way
ticket to Philly.

To Philly? Oh, Philly,
like Philly in prison.

Yeah.
Yeah, that's cute,
Ray. Cute.

All this stuff
in here, why'd he

take this?
Maybe he wanted

to go down swinging,
literally.

What is he, Lizzie Borden?

If he wanted a weapon,
he would've taken

a box cutter, a Sheetrock knife,
something easy to conceal.

He didn't want a weapon;
he wanted a tool... tool.

That's-that's rich.
So, when you were a runner,

did you do a lot
of home improvements?
I was never a fugitive.

Okay, why is she
on this team?
Mind your business, Lloyd.

This is my business.

She was not a lock-pick;
she was not a fugitive.

Is this affirmative action?
'Cause I got to tell you,

statistically, that
does not work, Ray.

No offense, Shea.

You are cops, right?

Yes, we are, sir.

CHARLIE: Shut up, Lowery.
All right, let's just break down

what we know already--
this guy's basically broke,

but he'd spend his last
dollar on a wood splitter.

ZANCANELLI:
And he ran on foot,

which means he's
smart enough

not to use the
protester's van

unless absolutely
necessary.

So if he does have property
around here, too,

he could get
there from here.

Jules, still no
real estate hits?

Uh, not under his name.

I've been trying
something creative here.

Just give me another minute.

Yeah, sure.
Take your time.

* *

See, this is
how they do it.

They mesmerize you
with the tuchis,

and then before you know
it, they are on a team with
no discernible skills.

Don't fall for it.

I'm just sneakin' a peek, bro.

Thought you guys liked
those big, big booties.

Oh, we do, but lockup
got me pent up,

so any narrow-ass
port in a storm.

JULIANNE (over phone):
I got something.

Been checking
county auctions in Camden,

since that was Price's M.O.
with his property in Wilmington.

There's a charity, ICR--
Inner City Reimagining--

fixes urban blight.

It bought an abandoned home
at auction months ago.

The parent nonprofit for ICR

was Xavier's church,

and since Price was
on the church's board,

he could sign all paperwork
with nobody even knowing.

How far?

* *

ZANCANELLI:
Protester's van.

I'll take the back;
you take the front.
I'm taking the back.

Nine times out of ten,
perp runs out back.

That's why I'm
taking the back.

Listen, it's not time
to mark your territory.

I've got more
field experience.

Good. Then take your field
experience to the front.

* *

* *

Psst! It's barred
from the inside.

He's barricaded
himself in.

Not for long.
Watch out.

Ready?

(woman screaming)

WOMAN:
Let me go! Let me go!

I'm not gonna hurt you!
I got her.
He'll come back!

We're not gonna hurt you.
We are officers.
He'll come back!

He'll come back!
We're not gonna hurt you.

He'll come back!
You're safe.

He'll come back!
We're not gonna hurt you.

He'll come... back.

Get a blanket
from the truck immediately!

9 Mott Street
in Camden. Do you confirm?
Lowery!

Who the hell is that?
Lowery! Help her!
You're a doctor!

I haven't done hands-on
medicine since rotations.

(crying)
Can you tell me
what happened?

This woman hasn't
seen daylight in months.

What the hell is going on?

Jules, there's months
of food in there.

The walls are soundproofed.

Give me Xavier's
entire history, okay,

not just the criminal
one. Thank you.

Sick bastard would
go on sales trips,

visit his captive, then
leave her in here for weeks.

She used this to barricade
the door so he couldn't get in.

Erica was right--
he needed a tool
to break in.

So much for
the happily-married family man.

You know, the family and the
church, they're all just props

to keep people from
suspecting anything.

So what? All we've got to do is
wait for him to come back here,

jump his crazy ass,
and then, boom,

30 days closer
to killing my number.

Local PD's already
doing cross patrols.

There's roadways,
alleyways, main streets.

He gets within three blocks
of the light show outside,

he'll turn around
and disappear.

I was working Ferry Street
a few weeks ago.

He said he was a cop

and told me to get in the car.

He started beating on me.

And I woke up in the basement.

Ms. Duffy,
the missing persons report

puts you gone
at nine months ago.

Really?

CHARLIE: Did
he ever mention

any places that he
might go or visit?

No.

He just... hurt me.

Did he talk about any people
that he might know

in other countries?
No. He just hurt me.

MAN:
Look, I said
you could have

five minutes and
I gave you ten.

I need to catch the
man that did this.

And I need to treat
this woman.

You do your job;
let me do mine.

Please.

Let's go.

(sighs)

I hope you find the others.

Wait, what did you say?

Come on,
enough already.

No, no, she just said
she hopes...

she hopes we find the others.

Who? Where?

I don't... I don't know.

He said there were three of us.

He'd make us make recordings
for each other.

Kept them in a lockbox.

The footlocker from
the house in Wilmington.

He had other women, and
the first place he went

was Wilmington?

Julianne, get on the phone
with Wilmington PD.

Tell them to put a search party
and rescue dogs

within a five-mile radius
of the house

that he burned down
in Wilmington.

He might've had women in there.

* *

Kelly Dezago.

Prostitute;
strangled.

Dogs found her
in a grave

three miles from
the burned barn.

She was malnourished;
her back molar was removed,

and not by a dentist--
she was tortured,

just like Jill Duffy.
Why risk

taking her from the barn?
If he wanted her dead,

why not leave her
in the fire to sizzle?

It's not personal enough.

Personal? He didn't
know these women.

They were from the street.

These crimes, ironically,

have nothing to do
with these women.

Now, uh, Julianne

searched for anything
on Xavier Price

prior to his criminal record.

It turns out,
as a boy he was also

a guest of the state,
but not as an inmate, as a ward.

Daddy wasn't around; he was
in and out of social services,

'cause his mom liked
to use his arm for an ashtray.

So, burns on the arm,
he burns his arm

to break out,
he burns down houses--

fire is a ritualistic purging
for this man.

Now, what is he trying to purge?

Perhaps it is
the memory of his mother

taking him to the supermarket

and leaving him there
when he was nine.

He never saw her again.

So do you think this guy

has a few issues
with women, or what?

JULIANNE:
Just pulled a death certificate
for his mother.

O.D.'d in a motel room
20 years ago.

She was a prostitute.

Ding, ding, ding,
we have a winner.

So he tortures prostitutes
'cause he hates his mom?

No. I hate my mom;
do I do these things?

Wouldn't surprise me.
(whispers):
How dare you.

Come on...
All right,
Xavier Price,

he was physically

and emotionally abused
as a child,

and eventually
he was abandoned.

He had no control.

He was at his
mother's mercy.

Now, for most men
who collect and torture women,

it's all about controlling them,
having power over them.

Well... we saw
his Hawaiian dolls.

Why not baseball cards?

Because thanks to his mom,

this guy needs the feeling
of controlling women.

So I was right--
he did have something

pressing him to break
out: his collection.

Yes. And he couldn't just
let 'em die when the food

and water runs out,
because that's nature

controlling them
and not him.

And knowing his infamy
ended his ability

to continue with these women,
he moved on

to the ultimate form of control:
taking someone's life.

And, Shea, that is why he

wouldn't let them
burn in the fire--

'cause he needs
it up close and personal,

hands around the neck,
feeling the fear

so he can take that
final act of control

with him forever.
Okay, I'm done.

And incidentally,
that is what

I bring to the
table, miss.

Somebody could be that affected

by not having a mother?
The one person

genetically designed
to nurse you abandons you?

What do you think?

CHARLIE:
Okay, so,

there were
three women.

One was found dead,

one was found alive,
and one is still out there.

Now, if we know Price, he's
tired, he's strapped for cash,

but he's still gonna get to her.

Well, if we find out
where she's being held,

he'll walk right
into our arms.

If we don't, she'll die,
and with nothing left

to keep him in the Northeast
he could run anywhere.

Okay, Julianne, get me a
breakdown of every single woman

that's gone missing
within the last year,

uh, within a 20-mile radius

of Price's sales route.
Okay.

That might take a bit.
Julianne,

why is it that every
single time I ask you

to do something
you tell me how hard it is?

I just saw a woman whose nails
had been torn out 'cause she

was clawing through
a basement door.

She's doing the best she can.

Hey, why don't you
mind your business, Ray?

She doesn't run
this team; you run

this team.
Step in my office.

Don't you ever call me out

in front of them
like that again.

Don't you ever yell
at Julianne like that.

You yell at your own girl.

Is this about Erica?
You're pissed

because I put her on the team

without clearing it
with you first?

You should've told me, Charlie.

With Erica's history,

what she's done-- she's a risk.

So what, bring Philly back?
So she can run off

with her money
and get this whole thing

shut down?
This is my chance

to get my badge back--
not to mention,

this task force was my idea,

and I have the right
to know if I'm working

with a girl with a spotty past

or some guy
with a heart condition.

Yeah, I did my research--
the reason

you huff and puff
like this big bad wolf...

is the same reason
you've been chained to a desk

for all these years:
bad ticker.

That's what killed your dad
when he was your age.

Okay.

You know something
about me,

I know something
about you.

But unless you want
the others to find out

that they're answering
to a fellow convict,

I suggest you keep
your mouth shut, Ray.

And I'll try my best
not to let my...

"bad ticker"

interfere with
your career advancement.

WOMAN: Oh, yeah,
no holding back.

Let it go, let it go.
(knocking)

MAN: Oh, shit! The cops!

Out of the car;
hands on the roof.

Give me your wallet.
Officer, come on.

How much money you go?
It's my first time.
My wife!

Your wife?
Yeah.

Don't want your
wife to know?
No.

Get in the car
and drive away.

Yes. Yes.

Where you going?!

Give me my money!
This is some bullshit!

My man's been paying y'all
to back off this block!

(spits) Hey, I'm
talkin' to you!

Did you spit
on me, bitch?

You're not a cop.

Give me my money.

(grunts)

Dirty...

whore.

Filthy... whore.

You're lucky I don't
have time right now

to add you to my collection.

(vehicle approaching)

(gasping weakly)

What sets a guy
like this off anyway?

I mean, he's had it out
for his mom since he was a kid.

Why snap now?
Well, could be
a memory trigger,

an anniversary,
anything.

It doesn't matter-- once
the floodgates are open

you can't put
the water back.

Employment record
says he went

on six sales trips
a year.

That means these women
were locked up alone

two months at a time.

Two months, that's too long.

No shit, it's cruel.

No, I mean, it's too
long for Xavier.

Somebody with
his compulsion
can't go that long

without exercising control
over his collection.

Is there anything in there
about, um, unscheduled visits,

excuses to
visit clients?

Nope.

JULIANNE:
Charlie.

Missing women for
the past six months.

I know you said a year;
I just wanted

to get you something to
hold you over until I'm done.

Thanks, Julianne.

That's it, Julianne.

That is how he keeps his
compulsion satisfied in between

trips to the women-- he needs
something to hold him over.

Like a photo, a...

a driver's license,
something personal

he keeps until
he sees the women again.

We find that,
we maybe find the third girl.

We need a search warrant.

MRS. PRICE:
You-you can't just come in here.

Mrs. Price,
we have a warrant.

Xavier isn't here.
I have no idea

where my husband is,
thanks to you people.

What are you doing?

My children are sleeping.

Whatever he kept,
it won't be

so hard to get to
he can't access it,

but it will be...
will be hidden.

Ma'am, when did you say
your husband

began making
this horrendous art?

Nine months ago--
and go to hell.

Charlie, when did
Jill Duffy go missing?

Nine months ago.

(yells)
Those belong to me!

This belongs to Kelly Dezago.

What... what is that?

It's a woman's molar.

A little something
to hold your husband over.

(gasps)
Oh, please...

Jill Duffy's fingernails--
and she didn't lose 'em

trying to claw through
that basement door.

What's going on?

Mrs. Price, your husband
that you defend so much

has been kidnapping
and keeping women.

And because he can't bear
to be apart from them,

he's keeping little
forget-me-nots

in your home.
No.

N-No, you're wrong.

Human hair.

It's gotta belong
to whoever

the third woman is.

If we run a DNA
we might be able

to find out who she is, and we

use that to find out
where she went missing.

And because he
doesn't keep women

very far from wherever
he takes them from,

that's exactly where
he's headed next.

Lloyd, grab those.
Let's go.

So, this many went missing

in just a few cities
in only a year?

Prostitutes are
easy targets.

There's probably more
we don't know about.

Okay, so, I just got
the DNA reports e-mailed to me,

but because there are no
databases for solicitation,

then we got to narrow it down.

Says here that it
belonged to a black woman.

(mumbles)

Not her.

Hold on, you're not
gonna take that one down,

are you, chief?

She's Mexican.

Last name: Gonzalez.

She's got...
physical characteristics

that indicate
African heritage-- so just...

Really? Like what?

(whispers):
You gonna make me say it? Shea.

Big lips?

See, I don't like working
with this racist, Ray.

I already said, I am not
a racist, I am a fact-ist.

Your hair is
curlier than mine.

Your lips are
fuller than mine.

I don't even want to get
into what's in our pants.

All right, shut up.

What else you got?

Said that she was at least 30.

So that takes out
the majority of them.

Most girls don't make it
past 30 in that life.

That leaves ten,
covering almost every city

in Price's sales route--
doesn't really help us,

now, does it?

Could be her.

Every collector likes

the unique piece,
you know.

Buffalo nickel, so to speak.

If a black prostitute

with bright green peepers
crossed Xavier's path

when he was on the prowl,
he'd totally pick her.

Or I could be totally wrong,
and we are now

wasting our time focusing
on a geographic location

based on someone's eye color.
Damn it.
(beeping)

E-mail from forensics.

They sent a file.

They were able to salvage

a bit of video
from Xavier's footlocker.

(woman sobbing quietly)

XAVIER:
You scared?

WOMAN:
Yes.

XAVIER:
Say hello to the others.

(woman sniffles)

WOMAN:
Hello.

It's too dark;
I can't see her face.

WOMAN:
Wh-Why are you doing this?

ERICA:
Okay, we've
seen enough.

(audio rewinding)

Really don't need
to see this again.

Listen, in the background,
after he talks.

(Xavier chuckles, woman sobbing)

(whistle blowing in distance)
Hear that?

ZANCANELLI:
Listen again.

(whistle blowing)
That right there,

that's a train whistle.

But there were
no trains

near the house
that burned down

or the basement where
we found Jill Duffy.
Then this is

the third woman--
this woman right here,

this is where he's going.

Outside of cities,
federal regulations

don't allow trains to run
that close to residential areas.

Thank you.

You know, there's a manhunt

going on right now,
and we're all trying

to get some time off
our sentences.
Get lost.

I don't understand.

You... you're taking a break
from catching a killer

to stare out the window...

Carlton Hicks motion.

Dr. Hicks studied women who lost
children from either death

or separation
and found that when
around other children

they instinctively reached
for their stomachs.

Give it a rest, okay?
More specifically,
the uterus.

And you just did that,
staring at that woman

with her baby
across the street.

You don't know what you're
talking about.

That is why you were asking
about the absentee mothers.

Oh, my God,
now you make sense to me.

The emotional
dissemblance,

the guarded behavior,
general bitchiness...

I am warning you.
You miss your kid.

(grunts)

Oh!
Hey!

What the hell's
wrong with you!

What's the problem!
He kept riding me!

I want her prosecuted!
He's a pain in the ass

to everyone,
but you don't attack the guy!

Cool off!
And, Lloyd, I know

you provoked it!
I have a deviated septum!

JULIANNE:
I-I think I found something.

Okay, two years ago,

a commuter line was given
a zoning ordinance

to run tracks just 30 yards
from the backs of homes

on a... a rundown street
in Airdale, New York,

just off of Price's
sales route.

30 yards is more
than close enough

to hear a train through
soundproof walls.

Yeah, I searched
the property records.

There's eight homes
on the street, all bank-owned.

That's where
he's got to be.

Shea, get Lloyd.

Tell Ray I'll be outside
in a minute, all right?

(sighs)

Charlie, are you serious?

Not a step out of line,
I told you.

Let's go!

Thanks.

I really messed
this up, didn't I?

Do you know what it's like
to have something inside of you

that you just can't control?

At times.

(humming quietly)

(sighs)

I know--
I'm sad, too.

* *

U.S. Marshals!

U.S. Marshals!

We checked every house, Jules;
he's not here.

Where the hell is he?

I'm telling you, Ray,
that is the only street

that is close to the tracks.

I mean, I can hear the whistle

moving past you
right now.

Julianne, they're
in the wrong town.

What? Why?
What's going on?

Erica thinks

that you're in the wrong town.

No, I-I know he is.
Just... just check to see

if there's any power
plants, a factory,

something like that
along Price's sales route.

What's she talking about?
No... okay,
just do it!

Jules, what the hell
are you doing?

We don't have time
to screw around.

I-I-I don't know.

I'm looking for...

What am I looking for? Um...

Okay, there is

a refinery in Sloan,
New Jersey, that, um...

That was on Price's route.

Let me talk to Ray.

Ray, you're in the wrong town.

I heard the theory;
tell me why.

Okay, Julianne said
she could hear the train

going "past you"--
train whistles, car horns,

they're loud when they're close,
and then they fade

as they go past.

That whistle in the video,
it-it was steady,

it didn't change--
it's not a train.

Then what the hell was it?
There's a refinery

in Sloan, New Jersey.
It's about 30 minutes from
where you are right now.

I've been near there, and
there's an industrial whistle.

JULIANNE:
Okay, Ray, I've
got an article here.

It says, due to
health concerns,

six homes on the block
right behind the facility

were bought by the
refinery three years ago.

They're all vacant.

Were any of the missing
women left on that wall

last seen in Sloan?

Lloyd was right.

It's her.

(sobbing)

Mmm, look at you.

Almost worth
keeping you around.

(crying): No...

Stop! U.S. Marshal!

Let her go, Price!

Help!

Come near and I'll kill you!

You see a weapon?
I couldn't tell.

CHARLIE:
He lit the house!

I assume you
want the back.

CHARLIE:
Hey!

Andrea!

CHARLIE:
Ray, I got the girl!
You go get Price.

I think he went upstairs.
Get her out of here, Charlie.

You don't have long.

Lloyd, I need a hand!

Don't move, scumbag.

Let me see your hands.
CHARLIE:
Get out, Ray!

CHARLIE:
We got the girl!
We got to go!

Come on, Ray,
let's go! Come on!

ZANCANELLI: Walk
towards me, slowly.

(loud clattering,
glass shattering)

No way out, officer,
the staircase is gone.

Mother used fire to punish me,

now I'm gonna use it
to not get punished.

I die here.

No prison, no confinement.

It just ends.

You ain't getting off that easy.

Yeah, I am.

'Cause now there's no way out.

I wouldn't
be so sure.

(grunts)

(grunts)

Yo, Ray!

Ray!

(coughing)

Shea! Move out of the way!

I'm gonna use that jerk-off

to break my fall!

Andrea, he can't hurt
you anymore, all right?

You're gonna
be just fine.

Can I talk to him
for a minute?

When I leave here,
I'm calling the D.O.C.
and make sure

that they have a psych eval
awaiting your arrival.

Within five minutes,
they'll mark you J-Cat,

which means you'll spend
the rest of your life

in solitary confinement.

No rec time,
no visitation.

Just 23 and a half hours a day
spent in a dark room

with no light coming in

except from
a six-inch slot in your door.

The hours will seem like days;
the days will feel like years.

You'll lose all concept of time,
and eventually,

you're gonna lose your mind.

You're gonna feel what
you did to those women,

Xavier...

only you're gonna experience it
for the rest of your life.

So you better enjoy

the sunlight
on your way back to prison.

* *

...and my neck's sore
and my shoulder hurts.

Because, Mother,
she is deceptively strong

and... wiry.

(quietly):
Look, I-I can't talk
about this right now.

I love... I love you, okay? Bye.

Ride's waiting
downstairs, ladies.

Speaking of ladies--

and I use the term
so, so loosely--

I'm not riding back with
the animal that attacked me.

SHEA: Normally,
I would side

with anybody who
kicks this dude's ass,

but I'm trying to get
time shaved off my bid,

not work with somebody who
can't control their business.

Hells, yeah.
CHARLIE:
Guys, let's just

settle down,
all right?

I'm settled, Charlie.

I'm settled on the fact
that the people

we're running after
are gonna attack us,

but not one of our own;
I'm not gonna do that.

Ray, talk to you
for a second?
Yeah.

Close that door.

All right,
what do you want to do

about Erica?
Wouldn't have

caught Price without
her, but Lloyd

brings up a good point--
she's got issues.

That's what
I been saying.
What about if

she lost it like that
out in the field?

She's a suspect in
five murders, Charlie.

That's not a joke.
Look, Ray,

the whole story isn't
in her file, okay?

Erica was raised
by her father,

who was a bounty hunter,
and a damn good one.

By the time this girl was 12,

she could track better
than most U.S. Marshals can.

The file said
her dad's deceased.

He was killed by some thugs

that worked for
the gangbanger skip

her father caught.

They tortured him for days

and then they
dumped him in some weeds.

And the guys she killed?

Five of the six guys

that murdered her father.

She was barely 20.

She tracked
these guys down

for years with
every law enforcement

agency on her back, and when

they finally caught
her, all they could

pin on her were weapons charges.

She didn't leave a clue.

Except the five
slash marks on her arm.

Why didn't you
tell me this before?

Because you are not
my partner, Ray.

But I do respect your opinion
and your experience.

So what do you want to do?

I know all about you.

Your mom was a drunk

and a half a whore.

Your dad got popped,
'cause he wasn't smart enough

to avoid who wanted him dead.

And now, because
of your crimes,

you lost your daughter,
and thank God for that!

She'll be better off
raised by wolves.

You want to smash my face?

There are rules here.

You want to be
part of this team?!

Huh?

This is the control

you have to show.

You want to be with your
daughter before she grows up,

you keep your powder dry.

You can't,

you're out.

I never had
a real mother.

My father was murdered, and
my daughter was taken from me.

I am angry.

But I can do this.

I need this.

Van to Maybelle's
waiting.

Go ahead.

(barks)