Truly a labor of love, to be able
to bring this magnificent collection to our city...
Where have you been?
They're about to start.
Well, you left your clutch in the car there.
...Mr. Greyson Blaise.
Thank you, Phoebe.
You are truly a patron of the arts.
Speaking of patrons of the arts... Napoleon.
His first wife was unable to bear him a child,
so he dumped the Empress of France
for the Archduchess of Austria.
He got a child, and she got a magnificent
gold and silver necklace consisting of 234 diamonds,
and what is widely considered to be
the most spectacular jewelry piece of the age.
It's here, and on loan from the Smithsonian.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure
that I give to you the Napoleon Diamond Necklace.
Lock everything down. The necklace has been stolen.
You've been a naughty boy.
You said you had to have it.
_
I can't believe you're back.
I have so many questions for you,
like where you've been.
I'll tell you later.
- But it's done? You're back? - Yeah.
I'm never gonna leave you again.
Ow, my foot. Oh.
- So sorry. Oh, I'm out of practice. - It's okay. Come here.
Oh, my God!
When did she get so big?
Was I really gone that long?
Oh, it happens fast.
You know what we need?
To have sex?
We need to get married.
We never got married.
Yeah.
Great.
First, let's have sex.
Okay.
Mm.
I'm so sorry I'm late.
Um, last night was crazy.
No time, Keen. No more excuses from anybody.
I gotta answer to the DOJ and Panabaker
and a new FBI Director who likes results.
And Reddington's acting like it's summer vacation.
Well, I don't wanna make excuses for Reddington, but...
- Then don't... - if his contacts are compromised
like he says they are...
I don't buy that for one minute.
The man knows people... Criminals.
He's plugged in to an entire ecosystem of deviants.
I have a hard time believing he's suddenly so compromised
he can't be of help to us.
No, he's playing grab-ass by the pool
between naps and happy hour.
Where are you going?
We are going to find Reddington.
I've had a teenage son, and the best way
to handle a man with no aim in his life
is to confront him directly.
Myron, I'm in your debt.
Lotta good that'll do me if the boys find out I was here.
Your associates are buzzards.
But you, my friend,
will always be welcome at my table.
This man gets us to a man named Dennison,
and Dennison gets us to the suitcase.
Elizabeth. Mr. Cooper.
Harold, Elizabeth, please sit.
Have a siu mai.
Is there somewhere we can talk privately?
Greyson Blaise.
Your room, an office?
You want a Blacklister, I'm giving you one.
Or are you here to play ColorKu?
An absolutely infuriating game.
Although, I do love the way it looks.
Greyson Blaise?
Isn't he the one who circumnavigated the globe
in a hot-air balloon?
And raced at Le Mans and trekked across the Sahara
and stole Van Gogh's "Poppy Flowers"
from a museum in Cairo.
He's an art thief.
A thrill-seeker.
A Van Gogh in Cairo. A Picasso in Rio.
And last night in New York, a necklace...
The Napoleon necklace.
Blaise is a rising star, and he's using dark money
in politics to spread his influence,
buying loyalty for the inevitable day
when the next thrill ride he chooses to go on
is to run for something.
King, perhaps.
So how do we get to him?
There's an auction in Zagreb 36 hours from now.
I'm told Blaise will be there.
Taking down someone with Blaise's profile
is exactly what we need right now.
Yes. Unfortunately for you, Harold,
I'm not telling you about Blaise so you can take him down.
What? I'm telling you about him
so you can help me go into business with him.
And why would I help you do that?
Because you need a powerful CI,
someone people fear.
And if my world learns I'm aligned with Blaise,
people will be terrified.
Blaise isn't gonna align with you
if he knows you're broke.
Which is why we must convince him that I'm not.
Fine.
But you're not going to that auction alone.
Keen, Ressler, and Navabi are going with you,
and I don't want any arguments.
Who's arguing?
I need a ride, you've got a jet.
What the...?
We're closed today. How did you get in here?
We need to talk.
Okay, give me the rundown.
What do we know about this auction?
Uh, not much,
and according to Mr. Reddington, that is the appeal.
Apparently, it's an upscale affair
run by Juric and Bauer, the boutique auction house
which is hosting the event in Zagreb.
According to their website,
their auction features rare and exotic coins,
stamps, decorative arts.
You know the international one-percenters
are gonna be crawling all over the place.
Which means high security.
Fortunately, the company uses a computer system to log guests.
I was able to locate their servers
and add a new profile.
Lovely.
Who am I going to be this time?
Yasmin Shahidi, the only daughter
of an Iranian textile manufacturer
who made a fortune selling private estates in Beverly Hills.
What about Reddington? With all that security,
it'll be too risky to bring him in the front.
Once you're inside, you're gonna have to find an alternate entry.
South stairwell. 30 seconds.
Nice work.
All right. Look, don't touch.
Or bid. I know the rules, Donald.
Well, humor us and try to follow them.
This is fun... Out and about, a glass of bubbles...
Just try to keep a low profile.
The last thing we need is someone to recognize you.
Truth be told, being stuck stateside
has left me feeling somewhat smothered as of late.
Oh, my goodness. Look at those Guan vases.
And that flatware.
Did you know Nancy Reagan... She could dress a table
specifically for that night's guest at a moment's notice.
Russian Silver for a tea with Gorbachev,
Italian silver stag-head stirrup cups
for a last-minute supper with Sinatra.
Can you imagine?
Sinatra? I can't imagine.
Let's find a paddle card and a catalogue.
I'd be lying if I said
I didn't enjoy dickering over an heirloom now and then.
I just finished my shift.
I'll be home in 31 minutes.
Yep, I use Waze to find my way home.
Don't let the scrubs fool you.
You're engaged to a moron.
I'll be home soon.
- Whatever it is, the answer is no. - Two minutes.
Okay, less. Please.
We move on, then, to lot 348.
Might I remind you that this rare collection
- I don't see him. Do you? - Includes the finest known bronze cent...
...from each mint,
including the unique 1943-D bronze penny,
which PCGS has certified at 68 out of 70.
Shall we open the bidding, then, at $1.8 million?
Did you hear me? He isn't here.
$1.8 million now.
- $1.8 million. - What are you doing?
- I can't resist. - Are you insane?
Elizabeth, we're at an auction. I have to bid on something.
You don't have any money.
Harold does,
and it's important for me to keep up appearances.
I can't go around looking like a party pooper.
$2.4 million.
Anything under 3 for the bronze Lincoln penny
is highway robbery.
- It's a steal. - Knock it off.
All through?
At $2.4 million?
3. $3 million.
Gentleman's bid now of $3 million.
Sold to you, sir at $3 million, paddle 143.
Well, at least we got his attention.
Reddington's her father?
I can't say I'm surprised.
I'm sad for her.
That sucks, but what does this have to do with me?
Nothing. That mystery has been solved.
But this one... hasn't.
Who is that?
I don't know. That's why I'm here.
I can't help you. Whoever is in here,
this is the dying wish of a good woman, all right?
Mr. Kaplan died so that Liz could find this skeleton
and identify the remains.
Liz is an FBI agent.
Why can't she have the Bureau ID them?
Because she doesn't know about them yet.
Your two minutes are up.
If I tell her now, she will tell Reddington.
If he finds out before we ID the remains...
- We? - ...He will find a way
to make sure she never learns the truth.
There is no "we."
The last time I helped you guys keep a secret from Reddington,
he almost killed me.
I get it.
Kaplan didn't leave instructions?
No, just a number to call when I picked up the suitcase.
She has a confederate.
Maybe he has the answers you need.
I was really hoping to get them from you.
I really should go.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we come now to our next item up for bid,
a lovely work of craftsmanship.
Raymond Reddington.
I didn't know you were a collector.
Yes!
But $3 million for a book of coins
is a bit rich even for my blood.
I'm sorry. I don't believe we've had the pleasure.
Greyson Blaise.
Colleen Williams. Anna Cartwright.
I'm surprised to see you here, Raymond.
I heard you were, uh, struggling.
If you're struggling, you're alive.
They say that your associate, the woman...
She, uh, she tried to destroy you.
Anna, those are lovely earrings.
Mm, they were a gift from Greyson.
Cheers!
Wow.
Those are just exquisite.
- Uh, may I? - Yeah.
Rumor has it you may be in the mood
to unload a certain waterway in the Aegean Sea.
Oh, I suspect you know surprisingly little
about my business dealings.
Perhaps, or perhaps there's a leak in the boat, Greyson...
One we'd need to plug before hopping into the canoe together.
I don't think I should be seen with you here.
Yet you understand that running an enterprise such as mine
requires a network of trade routes
which could prove quite profitable
to a man with your resources.
Go on.
I... I don't know where Dennison is, honestly.
I'd tell you if I did.
Do you like carrots?
Yeah, sure. Why?
Good.
Are you making us... a meal?
We should give thanks.
All praise is due to Allah,
who gave us food and drink,
and whose wisdom may guide us
toward a resolution of our conflict
that doesn't involve hospitalization.
This is how you're gonna get me
to tell you where to find Dennison?
I believe one gets more flies with honey than vinegar.
I have also studied the Behavioral Change Stairway Model
developed by the FBI's hostage-negotiation unit.
If the goal is to get one to tell something
they don't want to tell...
empathy and rapport are vital.
This tastes... amazing.
Red or white?
Red, please.
To finding Mr. Dennison.
What am I thinking?
This is neither the time nor the place to talk business.
Let's go somewhere, have a drink.
I don't think so. It's getting late.
- A nightcap... Amaro, perhaps? - Anna?
I have an early morning.
Well, if you change your mind
or care to see the Rembrandt, give me a call.
Wait.
The Rembrandt?
"Storm on the Sea of Galilee."
That painting's been missing for nearly 30 years.
Missing?
The thing's hanging on the wall of my house on Lake Como.
Oh, my gosh. That's it. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier.
We're having a get-together at the house Saturday.
You should come.
You have a house on Lake Como?
That's not far from me.
Why didn't I know that?
It's a fairly recent acquisition,
papered, of course to ensure my privacy.
I'm throwing a birthday party for a friend.
Drinks in the garden.
We can talk a little shop,
and you can experience "Sea of Galilee" in the flesh.
I'm busy Saturday.
Mm.
But if my plans change, I might...
try and swing by...
for the Rembrandt.
Cheers, Raymond.
I thought you were broke.
I didn't know you had a house
- on Lake Como. - I don't.
Then why did you tell him you're throwing a party there?
It was the first thing that came to mind.
I hope Harold's still in the office.
Can you call him?
And say what?
That we need his checkbook.
We're throwing a party.
You want the FBI to throw you a party?
Why on God's green earth would I agree to that?
Because I told Greyson Blaise
I was throwing a party.
I-I'm sorry, I'm just so confused, Harold.
Do you not like parties?
I'm trying to figure out why you promised Blaise
he could see a painting you don't own
at a party you're not throwing
at a home on Lake Como which you don't have.
I had to say something.
And what if Blaise doesn't show?
The man is an art collector
who has an opportunity to see a magnificent painting
that's been missing for 27 years.
He'll show.
The FBI isn't exactly in the business
of, uh, throwing criminals parties.
Let me worry about the house and the party.
I only need your assistance acquiring the painting.
"The Sea of Galilee" was stolen in 1990.
No one has seen it since.
Amalia Hammett sees it every day.
It's sitting on an easel
in the living room of her apartment in Paris.
How do you know that?
I brokered the sale.
And you want us to steal it back.
The woman is in possession of a stolen work of art.
The FBI can't seize it in Europe,
and while you could request a joint operation with the French,
I'm not sure they'll let you
lend it to my estate on Lake Como.
So yes, you should steal it.
Hey, Navabi, you got eyes?
Not yet. Any minute.
Aram says her calendar indicates that she and Marius
have a manicure every Thursday at 11:00.
He sounds like a real heartthrob.
Who is this guy, her boyfriend?
More like her bitch.
I'm on the move.
You gotta be kidding me.
Speaking of loyal companions,
uh, how are things with you and Aram?
Lovely. Thank you for asking.
You and I got a problem.
I'm touched. You're jealous.
Not quite. The old lady's coming back with her hamster.
The painting... It's not where Reddington said it would be.
What are you talking about?
"The Sea of Galilee"... It's not here. It's gone.
Well, Hammett's on her way up.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Do you speak English? I just need some directions.
I'm sorry, young man.
I'm very late.
All right, Navabi. You gotta go.
She's on her way up now.
The Rembrandt... Where is it?
Excuse me! What are you doing in my flat?
I have no earthly idea what you're talking about.
Out!
Get out!
I'm calling the police.
You're not calling anyone.
It's amazing.
How'd you convince the owner to let you use it?
I haven't, but I will.
Sometimes being notorious has its perks.
I know I've thrown a lot at you,
so please, take time to discuss.
So, you want to take our house.
Ah, not take. Borrow.
Ah.
_
We'll let you two talk.
Maybe you could just rent a different house.
One doesn't simply rent the kind of estate
I would have on Lake Como.
Besides, I told Blaise we had a garden.
They'll come around.
No.
What?
My husband, Paolo... He says no.
Analia, who plays the piano?
- Paolo. - I see.
Please tell Paolo
he's hosting a party tomorrow afternoon.
He can either drink champagne and tickle the ivories
or spend the rest of the night locked in the wine cellar.
_
Hmm.
What kind of music would you like?
We know that you bought "The Sea of Galilee"...
That Reddington brokered the sale.
Now, you either tell us where it is right now,
- Or I sw... - Or what?!
Who are you anyway? You're not French Police.
You have no right to come into my home.
You're right, we have no right to be here,
which should tell you that we're very serious people
with a serious need
for the information that we are requesting.
And since we're willing to break into your house,
there's no telling
what we'd be willing to do to you or Marius.
How did you know my dog's name?
Where is the painting?
What do you mean she sold it?
It's gone, out of the country.
That back-stabbing old bird.
She promised that if she ever decided to let that painting go,
she'd allow me to broker the sale.
Donald, we need that painting.
It's not here and we can't get it,
so I hope you have a plan B.
I'm out of the game!
Dale, hear me out.
I'll double your highest fee.
Raymond, I like you, I do.
But this isn't about the money.
The thrill is gone.
Right.
You know what, never mind.
It would've been impossible.
What's impossible?
No, I get it. I'll go.
What are you trying to duplicate?
"Galilee."
Impossible!
Nobody can recreate Rembrandt.
You'd have to be a fool to try!
Uh, forget I asked. It was a mistake.
You're on to other things.
How long until you need it?
24 hours.
You'll have it in 20.
Christoforo.
Hello, old friend!
Yes, a party.
Yes, yes.
Why would I not invite you?
No, no no. Where are you?
Sí, sí.
Yes, a party.
Yes, yes! No, no no!
No, no, bring Basillo and his wife.
No, no no. Sí.
Yes, and the sister, too.
Sí, sí, sí. Yes.
Grazie mille.
You look nice.
Thank you, you look...
What is that?
I only brought one suit.
I had to borrow something from Paolo.
What color is that, pumpkin?
It looks like a pumpkin.
His wife says it's Tuscan Sunset.
Ah.
Where's Ressler?
On his way, which is more than I can say for Blaise.
According to the tracker I put on his girlfriend,
they're still at their house.
Ah, yes, the tracker.
About that.
The men just finished a security sweep.
Found this.
What do you mean,
you intended for the tracking device to be found?
To gain his trust.
I told Blaise he had a mole.
The tracking device confirms it.
- Reporting what? I don't ev... - Get her out.
No, Greyson, baby, please!
Greyson! Get off!
Greyson!
Anna Cartwright is not a spy.
No, she's a con artist and a thief.
But she's innocent of this,
and by framing her, she could be killed.
She won't be killed.
She'll be banished.
To rebuild, I need Blaise.
And to get to him, I need his trust.
Where the bloody hell is Ressler?
How'd you know about Anna?
I didn't.
Raymond Reddington did.
Perhaps I should attend his little party after all.
_
Okay.
The good news is Ressler is en route
and the painting will be here in 20 minutes.
- And the bad news? - Blaise just walked in.
Of course he did.
Greyson!
- Welcome. - Raymond.
It seems like the rumors of your demise
have been exaggerated.
Fake news, curse of our times.
So, where's this painting?
I have absolutely no idea.
So many rooms, so many masterpieces.
Let's wander.
I'm sure we'll stumble upon it eventually.
Cheers.
Welcome to Geo. Can I help you?
Yeah.
I just need to change
the, uh, billing address on my account.
Sure, I can help you with that.
You all right, man?
Uh, yeah.
Let me get your number.
It's 202-555-0105.
Mr... Dennison?
You don't have to call me Mr.
I'm sorry, man.
My wife just, uh, just left me.
Oh, no, no.
That's fine, uh... Albert.
No worries.
I'll get that billing address changed for you.
Just, uh, let me get the last four of your social.
Seven years we've been together, you know?
- Sorry. - And she's sleeping with her boss?
- What? - And now
I'm the one who has to move out.
And I found that apartment, you know?
I remodeled it myself,
and now I'm sleeping on my buddy's couch.
And she's banging a guy named Phil!
That's messed up.
You know, the guy wears a bowling shirt, all right?
The kind with his... His nickname
embroidered right on the front,
and it's... It's "Chesty," all right?
She picked a guy named Chesty over me.
If I could just get that new address
where you want the bill sent, I'll fix you right up.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
It's, uh, it's 618, uh, Hillgrove.
Great.
So, uh, you want me to discontinue the copy
being sent to the Kinsey Street address?
That's fine. I don't even, uh, get it.
I just pay it online.
Nah, it says here you still get a copy
sent to 319 Kinsey Street.
I'd be a completely silent partner.
Harold Lloyd hanging from the clock tower,
risking all, saying nothing.
It's an interesting proposal.
My goods run through your ports.
If I'm caught, you disavow;
If I'm not, you get 5% of the profits.
10% and you have a deal...
- if you show me the painting. - Yes.
Of course, it looks even better
if you've got a glass of champagne in your hand.
Where is that young girl?
Don't move a muscle.
Finally!
Apparently, genius can't be rushed.
Careful! It's still wet.
There's an entrance on the south side
leading into the study.
Analia, just in the nick of time.
No, enough with the champagne and the stalling.
Do you have the painting or not?
As a matter of fact, I don't.
Truth be told, I'm broke.
I knew it. And this...
all of this, the estate?
It belongs to Analia here.
- The caterer. - A-And the pianist, Paolo.
They lent it to me under duress.
Is that true?
Sí.
Leaving so soon?
As far as I'm concerned, sugar, it can't be soon enough.
Oh, but you haven't seen the painting yet.
What's this?
We were just, uh, taking it down to...
I don't understand.
Y-You said you didn't have it.
I don't. You do.
That's why my men were taking it down.
A gift to commemorate our new partnership.
It's beautiful.
So much more vivid than any photograph.
The colors jump out,
almost as if the oils on the canvas were still wet.
Dale has spent two long years restoring it.
And now it's yours.
No. I'm sorry, but I-I couldn't.
You could, and you will.
Wrap it up and load it into his vehicle.
I don't know what to say.
Go. Enjoy.
We'll talk tomorrow, set things in motion.
Thank you, Raymond.
I can't believe it worked.
Almost.
Inspector Scutari?
Yes, hello.
I'm calling about the stolen painting.
Sí, the Rembrandt.
He did what?!
It worked... The entire plan.
Blaise agreed to align his operation with Reddington's,
and then, Reddington turned him in to the Italian police.
Apparently, it was all pre-planned.
There was an art-crime inspector
waiting for Reddington's call.
Sir, you seeing this?
So Mr. Reddington gave the forgery to Blaise as a gift,
then set him up to get arrested with it?
This makes no sense.
The whole reason to go there was to convince Blaise
to do business with Reddington.
So he played us, but why?
I told you.
The reason we're here is to rebuild my empire.
By partnering with Blaise,
by getting him to vouch for your financial situation.
That is a lily I may have gilded,
but it's a lovely evening on Lake Como.
Let's not spoil it picking the sense from the nonsense.
Where are you going?
Blaise's mansion is about 15 minutes from here,
and inside it is the cornerstone
on which I can begin to rebuild.
Are you telling me that this entire thing...
The forgery, the mansion,
the 150 bottles of wine and Blaise's arrest...
Were all an extremely expensive and elaborate ruse
so that you could rob him?
Yes.
Cool!
Cool? May be the wine
or the fact that I have no legal jurisdiction in Italy
or that Blaise called me "sugar" earlier,
but yeah... I think it's really cool.
Help you with something?
What are you doing?
Why aren't you destroying everything?
Destroying? I'm sorry, who are you?
They haven't notified you?
We're on the brink of a Level 4 breach!
- What is your name? - My name?
Caden Gard, Chief International Council for your employer.
I have some attorney out here, Caden somebody.
- I don't have time for this. - I-I'm only here
because Blaise has been arrested less than 20 minutes ago,
and within another 20,
this place is going to be crawling with Carabinieri.
I called ahead, gave explicit instructions
that everything was to be destroyed.
We just got a tip from our man in Interpol.
- They said that... - That Blaise was arrested.
What do you think I'm standing here for?
Miss Chloe and I are only here
because this is a Single Scope SCI sweep.
- I... I d-don't know what that is. - Oh, my God.
Where is Peniford?
- Peniford? - All right.
Radio your team... Everyone!
Tell them I'm on site and we're at Tier 3, okay?
Miss Chloe, contact our man in Interpol.
Find out how much time we have.
If anyone shows up, the alert word is "pumpkin."
You, inside.
- We're Tier 3. - Huh?
Cellphones, pagers, anything with a chip
needs to go in the microwave right now!
Egidio says the police are on their way...
15 minutes, maybe less.
You. Can you access the security feeds?
Yes, sir. Get there and destroy them.
Okay people, listen up... Sugarfoot has been arrested,
and time is of the essence. We're Tier 3,
but this is what we prepared for.
You all know the protocol.
This is now officially a Single Scope Operation.
You and you, I need you to find anything with a hard drive,
get it in the bathtub.
You two, you're on paperwork.
Anything with numbers gets burned.
Somebody show Miss Chloe the financials.
And you, show me Yankee Bob White.
- Sir? - The safe!
Where's the safe?
Oh, my God.
He's keeping financials on the entire staff.
This could implicate all of us.
Take it downstairs and burn it.
You, get me the combination to that safe.
Take these.
Before we get killed,
you mind telling me what we're looking for?
Blaise's passports... Find them, shred them.
Miss Chloe, time?
Six minutes and counting.
Some of the records are on paper,
but Mr. Blaise...
He keeps the important docs on this thumb drive.
The passports! Go, now!
What about the painting?
"Dance"? The Picasso?
Get it out of here, anywhere.
H-Have them put it in my car.
Take it.
- What? - Take it.
Uh...
The Lincoln Penny?
That's what we're here to steal, a coin?
Do you have the thumb drive?
Threw both of Mr. Blaise's desktops in the lake.
Uh, the police may find them,
but the drives are toast.
Listen to me. Good God, man, listen.
If you make it out,
there's a small hotel in Paris...
3241 Rue de la Mare. Say it back.
- 3241 Rue de la Mare. - Go there.
Get a room under the name Mr. DeLacey. Say it!
Mr. DeLacey. Right.
I'll make contact when it's safe.
Until then, talk to no one. Do you understand?
Good luck, mate, and Godspeed!
Is that really a Picasso in the back seat?
Yes. That was a nice surprise.
Harold, you're obviously upset.
No, I'm not upset.
"Upset" is an emotional word.
My reaction isn't about emotion.
It's about my job.
It's about you consistently keeping me in the dark
and refusing to respect my role
as the head of this task force.
And you know what else it's about?
Your ego and your obvious failure to understand
that this entire operation,
everything we're trying to do here, is hanging by a thread!
My mistake. I thought you might be upset.
You lured us in, acted like the only thing
you needed from us was a ride to that auction.
The next thing I know,
my people are stealing paintings...
To be fair, stealing back a painting.
Or trying, at least.
Not to mention half-a-dozen invoices
for a party at a house on Lake Como!
Right.
Please don't forget to pay the catering bill.
Those folks were very, very nice.
After all of that, what do we have to show for it?
Nothing. You handed Blaise over to the Italian police,
so we don't even get credit for the arrest.
True, the Italians will get credit for arresting Blaise
with "The Sea of Galilee."
Of course, it's not "The Sea of Galilee,"
which they will undoubtedly realize shortly,
at which point they will be forced
to release Blaise with apologies.
So nobody gets him. Wrong.
You get him, Harold... You and this Task Force.
Because while the Carabinieri have bogus evidence,
you have the genuine article.
Fast, hard proof of Blaise's criminal activities
all over the globe...
Art heists, missing masterpieces.
That necklace alone should be enough to put him away
and get your new Director off your back
for a long weekend, at least.
What was in that house that was so important?
Penny for your thoughts.
Why'd you do it?
Why'd you let me?
It wasn't the wine.
I'm scared of you.
Now more than ever.
Of who you are, because...
you might be who I am, too.
I let you do it because it felt like the right thing to do.
It wasn't.
But it certainly felt that way because...
Because you're my daughter?
In more ways than I care to admit.
Are you Dennison?
Who did this to you?
What happened? You okay?
Who did this to you?
I'm sorry.
Albert?
Albert, look at me.
Do you know who I am?
You're a tough son of a bitch.
Your loyalty to Kate is admirable.
But you will die, Albert...
here and now,
if you don't tell me where that suitcase is.
Who has it?
I won't ask you again.
Hey, hey.
Who... Why did I pick up the suitcase?
Ole...
What?!
Oleander.
Who's Oleander?
Find him.
Who is he?
What is... What is Oleander?
Hey, it's me.
Nik, what's up?
I've been thinking about this,
what you said.
I have no interest in getting involved with Reddington,
but if what you said...
If you think Liz is in some kind of danger,
just tell me what you need me to do, okay?
Thank you. Nik, that's, uh...
Thanks. Look, I don't feel comfortable talking on the phone. Can we meet?
Yeah. Text me an address.
Wow, smells amazing!
Yeah, well, hold your judgment until you've tried it,
because I might end up killing us all.
"Us all"?
What's going on?
Elizabeth, good evening.
Hello! What's going on?
Tom didn't tell you? I was invited to dinner.
I set four place settings.
Every time I see you, you're with Dembe,
so I just thought the two of you, you know.
I don't know what I thought.
Thank you, Tom. I regret I can't stay.
I have another engagement.
Sorry to have inconvenienced you,
but at least you'll have plenty of leftovers.
Before I go, let's have a toast.
What exactly are we celebrating?
Tom's return, of course!
Your family must be very happy to have you back.
I remember warning you not to embark
on that silly adventure.
But nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Welcome home.
Cheers.
So, what have you been up to?
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