They called me a freak.
A monster like Dad.
You're nothing like him, Malcolm.
You're not a monster.
You're a survivor.
Survivor. Survivor.
Survivor.
Help.
Anybody.
No one can hear you scream
out here.
Are you sure?
I'm a pretty good screamer.
- Had a lot of practice. - Oh,
don't be scared, Malcolm.
We finally get to have some alone time together.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Everybody listen up.
It's been 12 hours
since Detective Owen Shannon was murdered
and NYPD consultant Malcolm Bright was kidnapped.
Our prime suspect is one John Watkins,
aka Paul Lazar,
known to the public as The Junkyard Killer.
Now, we know that Watkins' MO was
to keep his victims alive for a time,
but he also just changed all that
with his last three murders,
so assume nothing.
Time is of the essence.
Powell, I need you and your partner.
Detective Tarmel.
I want you going through evidence photos,
logging, flagging anything
- that requires follow-up. - Unis can handle that.
Bright's our guy. We can't just sit around...
In the FBI,
processing evidence isn't rookie work, Officer Tarmel.
- My rank's detective, Special Agent. - We're on it.
However we can help.
Good.
Why are you...
with the FBI is gonna be a lot easier than against.
We need to talk.
What I need is to interrogate Matilda Watkins,
the last woman who saw Shannon and Bright alive.
Bright is still alive,
and Jessica Whitly deserves to know her son is missing.
Why, so she can give an exclusive to TMZ?
She's his mother.
She was also married to The Surgeon.
- What does that mean? - It means
I don't trust Jessica Whitly.
And neither should you.
Unless you know where she got that photo from.
I'm focused on finding Malcolm Bright.
Then let's do it.
Where's my soda pop?
We have a few questions first.
I can have one soda a day.
And you will get it.
But we need your help.
Where would John take Malcolm Bright besides the junkyard?
I remember that one.
From church.
? Sinners plunged?
? Beneath that flood?
? Lose all?
? Their guilty stains.?
Ms. Watkins...
this is your last chance.
Where is your grandson?
? There is?
? A fountain filled?
? With blood?
? Drawn from?
? Policemen's veins...?
Get her out of here.
?Your little friend, is dead ?
? is dead ?
? He is nothing ?
? but a stain ?
I'm sorry, Arroyo.
She was never gonna give us anything useful.
I may know someone who could.
But I'm gonna need a favor from you.
Can we get a statement?
Do you have a statement?
Please, tell us.
Mrs. Whitly will be with you in a moment.
Yes, it would have been 20 years ago.
Her encounter happened when?
Oh, um, no.
How-how would I know what I was wearing?
That is disgusting.
Men like that make me wonder if giving my phone number
to half the world was a bad idea.
Though I suppose it is slightly flattering.
You should send everybody home.
Gil, I know you're angry,
but if I want to keep Martin away from this family for good,
I need enough evidence for a new murder charge.
Send them home.
Sir, yes, sir.
Thank you, everyone.
We will reconvene tomorrow morning.
And we will be dressed
business casual, Leonard.
Vests are for valets.
Let's sit down.
It's about Malcolm.
What's happened?
He's been taken.
By The Junkyard Killer, John Watkins.
No.
No, no. N...
Is it because I went on TV?
- I provoked him. - That's not what happened, Jess.
Malcolm found Watkins on his own.
But we will get him back.
What am I supposed to do?
- I'm not going to sit here... - I know.
I know.
There is something you can do to help us.
Martin knew Watkins years ago. Malcolm may have, too.
We pulled these photos from Watkins' home.
Maybe there's someone
or something you'll recognize.
Uh, anything could help.
And, Jessica,
if any of this gets leaked to the press...
I understand.
But...
all of this?
Gil, this is a world I knew nothing about.
The man you need to speak with is locked in solitary.
Yeah. I got a friend in the FBI who's working on that.
I'm going to visit The Surgeon.
Well, you can kill that son of a bitch for all I care.
Just find my son.
Dr. Whitly, you have a visitor.
Happy day.
So, it's all led to this.
I can't believe we're here now.
Together.
Ah. Can you feel it?
Can you feel it in the air?
Am I your next mission?
Are you gonna starve me?
Like the others?
Force me to atone for my sins?
I'm finished with that work.
Oh, so you're evolving.
Right in this moment.
Even if that doesn't bode well for me,
that really is fascinating.
You killed Shannon with a knife.
You took his life with your own hands.
That's not your normal method.
For serial killer to change their technique is rare.
It's-it's impressive.
I don't care what you think.
Of course you do.
Otherwise I wouldn't still be alive, would I?
There's a reason you took me.
You're-you're looking for a connection.
Oh, we've always had a connection.
Just like you had with my father.
'Cause... Well, you needed him, didn't you?
As a-as a role model.
A mentor to show you the way.
I liked working with him.
And I'm gonna like working with you, too.
Well, I'm flattered,
but, uh, as many people will tell you,
I-I kind of like to work alone.
Plus...
I'm not a killer.
Not yet.
You just haven't gone through the trials, like I did.
I emerged a new man after my trials.
And so will you.
Mm, if you survive.
And for you,
a lemon-lime.
We're friends?
- Want to dance? - It's a bad dream.
What are we doing?
Watkins doesn't wait to do his killing anymore. We know that.
And we're sitting here, looking at...
Matilda Watkins' annual angel collection.
You think that's creepy?
Sifting though this psycho's past
is not making me feel any better about Bright's chances.
Wait. Where do you think that is?
Bright had questions about a camping trip he took as a kid.
If that cabin's a place
Watkins is familiar with, and it's out of the way...
That's got to be where he's holding Bright.
Lieutenant Arroyo.
Yeah, well, aren't you
a sight for sore eyes.
You know, the last time
you surprised me like this...
My father. He's going to kill you.
I still owe you that cup of tea, don't I?
I switched to coffee.
You need a chair?
- You don't look so good. - Oh, are we saying
all our inside thoughts now, Gil?
'Cause there's a few I could say.
I'm here to talk about John Watkins.
So, Malcolm figured out his name.
That didn't take too long.
What was the final piece
that put it all together? Where is Malcolm?
I said I'm here to talk about Watkins.
If you want to stay out of that hole they pulled you from,
I can't be the only one talking.
Fine, fine.
So, how many lives has he taken?
We've confirmed 19.
Not as many as you.
19's nothing to be sneezed at.
It's what they call a serial killer's dozen.
Oh, God...
Uh, have they, um...
have they named him yet?
The Junkyard Killer.
I need to know where you went...
I'm sorry... The Junkyard Killer?
Yikes.
When I said you needed to talk, this is not what I meant.
Forgive me.
You probably need help with a...
a profile.
Well, uh...
The junkyard was a mislead, of course.
John hated getting his hands dirty.
I mean, for a man who once took his pleasure
with human cadavers, he was fastidious.
I don't need a profile, I need location specifics.
Of course, profiling is more Malcolm's thing.
Isn't it? Is Malcolm listening to this conversation?
You-you wired up?
- Hello! My boy! - Where did you go with Watkins?
We need to find his killing grounds.
I understand, we've...
we've been, uh, you know, through some stuff,
but I-I... I can still help you. And your sister.
I mean, your mom's probably a harder sell.
Where is my boy?
You don't get to choose who questions you.
No, but I can choose who gets the answers.
Where is my...
boy?
John Watkins has him.
No.
He... No.
I need your help, Dr. Whitly.
Roughly 12 hours ago, Malcolm was kidnapped by Watkins.
We don't know where he is.
He's... If John has him, he's dead. He's dead.
Focus. We are running out of time.
No, there's no time. It's over, my son is gone.
Mr. David, get medical!
Medic!
I need him conscious.
So...
should we talk about the past?
Everybody needs a good knife.
You want to talk about the past?
I had a good look at yours.
The way your grandparents raised you.
All the punishments.
Fire and brimstone.
The wardrobe where they kept you.
I saw the scratches on the door.
Nobody deserves that.
I-I... was a difficult child.
Is that why you had to kill your grandfather?
I saved him.
And I made sure it was quick.
He was working on his car.
You kicked out the jack.
He was your first.
You crushed him, then started on the others.
Ah, you got me all figured out.
That's how I know you weren't born this way.
You're a product of that home.
Which means you can change.
You can evolve. This is a sickness.
It's my calling!
I am a savior.
No.
You torture and kill addicts and prostitutes
because that's what your mother was.
You loved her, and she left,
and you grew up with grandparents
who drilled hate into you.
You think you're an original, John.
But really, you're chapter one
in the first profiling book
they give new recruits at Quantico.
At least I remember my past.
What made me who I am.
You don't even know who you are.
You don't remember what made you.
It all started right here.
Then help me remember.
We went on a camping trip.
The girl who I found... She was there, too, right?
Aw, the girl. That's all you care about!
Your father took care of her himself.
Guess she was special.
But that doesn't matter.
This is about you...
and me.
And this.
Aah!
You stabbed me
and left me for dead.
I lived.
Will you?
The powers that be love everything you've done so far.
Your ratings were through the roof.
And searches for hot serial killers
- went up over 2,000%. - Oh, that's so gross.
I know. I mean,
after a bottle of pinot, I may have searched for that, too.
But I hate myself, so...
Ainsley...
I'm the only top news producer in New York
who hasn't been me-too'd off to the Hamptons,
and I want to help you craft your follow-up interview.
There's talk of it airing after the Super Bowl.
Yeah, well, he's in solitary, so even if he wanted to talk...
He can't. Got it.
Leslie, I was really hoping
that any follow-up would focus more on his victims
- and their families. - Sounds like a snooze fest.
Stop. I just really think that it would be...
Uh...
- Looks important. - _
- Maybe it's an exclusive. - Last time my mother used 911,
it was about a sample sale.
_
She said "please." That's a first.
Then go. I'll tell the suits
you had a family emergency.
I'll be overly vague. They'll love it.
Go.
- You only get one family. - Hmm.
Yeah. Mine's more than enough.
"I can create a place of peace and safety
no matter where I am." "I can create a place
of peace and safety no matter where I am."
That's right.
Do your daily affirmations...
just like I taught you.
You're not really here.
And you're not really in a place
of peace and safety.
Now.
Collect your thoughts.
The more you breathe,
the more ordered those thoughts will be.
You have to stay alive, kiddo.
I'm losing a lot of blood.
Everything you need to fix that is right here.
First priority: stop the bleeding.
That's better.
Now, I know what you're thinking.
Of course you do.
You're a stress-induced hallucination.
Look at Mr. Know-it-all.
You think Watkins is going to shed a light
on the girl in the box, is that it?
Solve all your problems.
He can tell me about her.
Let her go. Stop tying your traumas up into her.
She's not the reason you're like this.
We know why you're like this.
Watkins doesn't matter.
Watkins can help me.
He can kill you.
He almost has.
Stop trying to profile
and, for once in your life,
protect yourself.
Where are you, Malcolm?
Where are you right now?
It all started right here.
Right here. Right here.
Where it all started.
The camping trip.
That's where I stabbed him.
That's where he's holding me.
I'm his origin story.
But why would I try and kill him?
You think I'd remember that.
We've been through this.
You can't force the memories to come, Malcolm.
You need to focus on your own survival.
What's the point of knowing the answers
if you're dead?
I can't do this alone.
Come back.
I've got local law enforcement
doing targeted vehicle checks all over the tristate area,
an army of techs combing through CCTV footage
and forensics teams at the Watkins house,
and you want to go camping?
Bright is one of us, and he's out there.
We believe this cabin is an important place for Watkins
and, in a way, for Bright.
I'm afraid I don't follow.
We know that when Bright was a kid,
he went camping with his dad and another man.
He thinks that that might have been Watkins.
- Bright met Watkins as a kid? - Yeah.
On a trip to this cabin.
Don't you see...
Watkins is taking Bright back to the beginning.
Okay.
Let's go.
You're... coming along?
How many hours of hostage recovery and extraction
do you two have under your belt?
Let's go.
Copy that, JT.
I'll get it out of him.
This will help, Dr. Whitly.
Oh, benzodiazepines, my old friend.
Thank you, Omar.
Thank you, Mr. David.
Martin?
Martin, I don't have a lot of time
and neither does Malcolm.
Was there a cabin that you visited with Watkins?
You still think Malcolm's alive?
Omar, we may need some benzos
for my friend here.
It's over.
No. Malcolm's a gutsy kid
with one of the sharpest minds I've ever known.
You might not have any faith in him, but I do.
How you yearn for it.
To be his father.
That's why you brought him into the NYPD, right?
Cared for him?
Huh?
I did a hell of a lot more for him than you ever did.
Well, you certainly got him killed.
And, oh, if you'd been a good boy
and drank up your cup of tea that night,
Malcolm would still be alive.
He's not dead.
Well, if you knew John Watkins like I do...
you'd think otherwise.
I owe Malcolm my life. I'm not giving up on him.
Oh, yeah,
you two got a real bond.
What else did you do to try to replace me?
I smelled my wife's perfume on that...
cheap coat.
You're not worthy of a woman like her.
She must have felt sorry for you.
Or angry at me.
Focus on the cabin.
Watkins could have taken Bright there,
and he's smart enough to stay alive.
You know that.
Well, that's-that's true.
I mean, Malcolm is...
resourceful, after all.
- He is. - Yeah.
He is. Now, where would John hold him?
Um...
there was a...
a rather deep cellar at that property.
Get me a pen and I'll...
I'll draw you a map.
Hurts like a son of a bitch, doesn't it?
Yeah.
Oh, I know.
I floated down a river like that,
fixed myself up with a rusty fish hook
and some line.
That's what I'm hearing.
The river.
Could have used a surgeon that day, but he was...
less than helpful.
Why did I do it?
You don't remember the fight?
We were supposed to do this together.
You and my dad were gonna kill somebody.
The girl.
I tried to save her, didn't I?
You got a hell of a hero complex.
Stop asking about the girl.
Then tell me why I stabbed you.
It was self-defense.
And the chloroform
wasn't working as well as it once did.
You were starting to remember things.
We brought you on that camping trip
to take care of you for good.
Your father was going to kill you.
Hello?
Mom?
What's going on? What's all this?
Your brother is missing.
Missing?
Taken...
they think, by The Junkyard Killer.
I... I don't understand.
He's been kidnapped?
How is that possible?
It is possible because you and your brother have made it
your livelihoods to obsess
- over your father's past. - Stop.
Is that really why you asked me here?
No. But I can't just sit here alone,
wondering if he's ever going to come back.
- God, hug me, for God's sake. - Um... uh...
Um...
it's okay.
I mean...
It's not okay, but...
it will be.
Malcolm has been trained by the FBI.
He confronts monsters like this every day.
Oh, don't tell me that.
But thank you.
So... what are these?
Pictures...
from The Killer's house.
Gil wanted me to look through them,
see if I saw anything... relevant.
So they're desperate.
- Maybe I can help. - No.
I promised Gil no press.
That's not what I meant.
I meant, I can help by sitting here
and going through creepy photos with you.
We will need bourbon.
Oh, my God.
Ainsley.
You remember it all now, don't you?
My father's a lot of things, but he would never kill his own son.
Oh, he had every intention to.
He just...
lost his nerve when we got up there.
So you took things into your own hands.
Until...
you became your father's son.
Came at me like a feral animal.
I am not a killer.
My scar says otherwise.
Face it, you're just like me.
You judge, you hunt.
I bring criminals to justice.
I protect my community and my family.
Of course.
You share your father's strengths,
but you also share his weakness.
What's that...
His sadistic megalomania or the dash of God Complex?
Your family.
It's here somewhere. I know it.
What is it?
Mom, I need to tell you something.
- Now you're scaring me. - Good.
Do you remember Mr. Boots?
- Your imaginary friend? - Yes.
What do you remember?
You invented him right before they took Martin away.
The child psychologists...
And believe me, we had a fleet of them...
Said that it was perfectly normal for a girl your age
to have an imaginary friend,
especially in a time of trauma.
How can he be imaginary if he gave me this?
You're confused.
That figurine was from your father.
It's one of the last things he gave...
An angel? No.
Dad got me books on Marie Curie.
This?
This was from Mr. Boots.
Just like Martin, you...
love your family.
It's your fatal flaw.
Sacrifice will be your final trial.
But don't worry, it won't be something
you have to do,
just something you have to endure.
I'll do the doing.
No movement in the house.
Gil said there's a cellar. Could be underground.
We don't have eyes down there.
Your men clear up top. We're going underneath.
Copy that.
I'm primary. We're going into a blind,
so, Tarmel, you cover the rear. Powell, where I'm not looking,
- that's where you're looking. - On it.
No.
Stop. You don't have to do this.
No, but I do. Mm.
It's my calling.
I know that voice.
The one inside your head.
Uh, maybe it started with your grandfather
saying you were worthless, but it-but it evolved
into something
more powerful, undeniable.
It will never be satisfied.
And neither will you.
Clear.
There's no sign of them.
Cabin's empty.
Damn it, Bright, your skinny ass better still be alive.
I hear that voice, too.
From my father.
I can hear him.
I can see him.
But I don't have to listen to him.
So don't.
Don't listen to the voice.
The thing is...
I like the voice.
It's a part of me.
And right now,
it's telling me to hurry.
Watkins, wait.
Watkins! Stop.
Room's clear.
Damn it.
All clear down here.
Gil? He's not here.
He's not here.
Watkins, no!
It's not a river.
It's the subway.
- We're under... - There's no place like home.
No!
This photo is from John Watkins' house.
The angels... they're...
they're just like mine.
John Watkins was Mr. Boots.
And you didn't tell me there was a strange man
- in our house? - No!
No, because I-I-I thought... I...
I thought he was a ghost.
Because when I followed him down here to Dad's hobby room,
and-and I turned the corner, he had...
he disappeared.
Hey, don't be a stranger, okay?
Mr. David, wait.
The cabin was a dead end.
- They didn't find him? - No. If there's anything else you re...
Martin? Hey.
Hey, Martin? I need you to focus.
Where would he be?
I know where Watkins took my boy.
- Where? - Oh, no.
He's gonna kill them all.
What was that?
Run.
Oh, my God, The Junkyard Killer's here.
You want an interview?
Let's go.
Hey!
No. I'm so sorry. Come on.
We got to go. We got to go.
We got to go. Come on. Come on.
Just take a breath.
Order your thoughts.
You know what I don't need right now?
Psychotherapy.
My family
is about to be murdered.
What I need...
What you need...
is your father.
And his hard family.
Our family
is about to be slaughtered.
And just look at you.
Helpless.
This is your fault.
You brought John Watkins into our lives.
Into our home.
That's where we are. Right?
Under the house.
Not much gets past you.
A house as old as this has a lot of secrets.
And how's this for a secret?
You were gonna kill me.
Uh... okay, that one's on me.
But... Oh, come on.
That's water under the bridge.
Let's focus on the here and now.
You need to find a way out of those.
It's a blunt procedure, but...
it's your only option.
The diameter of the restraint
is three inches.
The width of your hand
is five inches.
So all you have to do is, uh...
make your hand three inches.
That's just math.
Time's a-wasting.
Chop-chop.
Am I bleeding?
Baby! Get up.
- Get up. - Oh! Okay.
You got to go. Get in there. Go!
All right. Now everything's
gonna be just... fine.
Oh, honey.
Oh.
One thing you learn having kids... Aah.
Head wounds bleed like crazy,
but they heal so fast.
Mom.
- What? - I'm sorry.
Oh... Shh.
You...
just relax, okay?
Oh, you're gonna have a hell of a headache tomorrow.
It's a good thing your mom
has a highly-curated collection
of pain killers.
Okay, put this... Hold this. Hold this on your head, baby.
Oh, damn it.
Oh...
Don't worry, baby.
I've never
counted on a man to save us.
And I don't need to now!
One... two...
The police are on their way, you psycho.
Get out of my house if you want to stay alive.
Watkins!
Malcolm!
I know you're here.
This is my house.
My family.
Do you hear that?
That is my son,
and he's coming for you.
Watkins!
I'm gonna find you...
and lock you in the dark.
Aah!
This is my house.
Hey. Hey...
are you okay?
- Mom? - Oh...
You stay here.
Okay.
Oh, God.
- Oh. Oh. - We're safe.
Aah! Ow. Watch the hand.
What happened? Are you okay?
I'm alive.
Oh...
Where's Watkins?
Is he... Did you...
No.
But he'll never be able to hurt us again.
*CREDITS*