Dembe Zuma?
It's for you.
Hello?
Dembe, that was incredibly reckless calling to warn me off.
How did you know I was at the mosque?
What were you thinking?
I was thinking about death,
possibly yours or some hapless FBI agent.
I see. Well, it was foolhardy, short-sighted.
And it worked.
But at what cost?
You've done something in the last few years
I never thought possible.
You wiped your slate clean.
You joined the FBI of all things.
Don't go throwing away your future on my account.
Nobody knows I made the call.
Good. That Congressman is looking for any excuse,
especially when it comes to you.
So don't do me any more favors.
I won't.
I'm going to bring you in, Raymond.
That's the spirit.
I'm serious.
I hope so. For your sake.
Be safe, Dembe.
You, too.
Chuck, slight change of plans.
How quickly can you get ahold of our friend Bertha?
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
_
Come on, people. Debrief in 20.
I want to hear some good news.
Mr. Cooper, perhaps you can explain something to me.
Reddington blew up his own jet to get away from us.
Then he turns around, comes all the way back to the city
just so you two can have a cozy chat in your kitchen?
How does that make any sense?
It doesn't, but his behavior rarely does.
Not from the outside, anyway.
Well, I guess we should be grateful, for his lapse in judgement.
Barricades went up as soon as you reported the incident.
This entire area has been shut down and sealed off.
He was last seen driving this, a 2018 Nissan Leaf.
He disabled the GPS, but we got the plate number,
so our first order of business is to find that car.
I'm sorry, but our first order of business
should be to throw out the playbook.
You may want to think of Raymond as an ordinary criminal.
That would be a mistake.
I realize you all spent years with the man,
and you feel like you know him better...
It's been over a decade, and I still don't know him.
But there are a few things we should probably explain.
His personal assets are in the billions,
the scope of his influence, basically unlimited.
And those are just his external resources.
It's his mind you should be worried about.
No matter where he is, the time of day, weather conditions.
He has escape routes within escape routes.
Okay, keys and money are in the envelope.
The car's outside. Oh, and take this card.
If you get arrested, call the number,
somebody'll bail you out.
Have a nice drive.
Keys and money are in the envelope.
Your car's outside. Take this card.
If you get arrested, call the number,
somebody'll bail you out.
Have you ever heard the expression
"He sleeps with one eye open"?
I've actually seen him do that.
I think what we're trying to say is,
he's a real tricky customer.
The way you all build him up,
it almost sounds like you admire him.
Oh, it's not admiration, it's a warning.
I don't care if he's Lex Luthor.
Reddington's not getting outside...
MPD just flagged his plate!
Heading east over Woodrow Wilson Bridge.
Damn, he got past the police barricade?
Let's get choppers in the air.
We need to shut all traffic heading...
Sir, Virginia State troopers just pulled over
a Nissan Leaf moving west on I-66.
- The plate's a match. - How the hell is he...
I don't understand.
Aviation Command says that they're circling him
on the Anacostia Freeway, same plate, same car.
I'm not gonna find him in any of these cars, am I?
I'm afraid not.
Within hours he's somehow floods DC with identical cars,
so we spend the day chasing our tails like a bunch of idiots?
Confusion, misdirection,
this is how he operates.
It's kept him safe for over 30 years on the run.
But you do have one advantage in this case.
What's that?
Us.
I've gotta make a call,
I'll be back.
Agent Ressler, I wanted to find a moment to offer my condolences.
Jon Pritchard was a good man...
You know what? Don't, just don't.
Okay, I just... I hope you don't blame yourself...
Enough!
That's enough now.
Take him up to my office.
You all right?
Fine. Fine. I shouldn't've...
- Arthur... - His friend died. Let it go.
Mr. Cooper.
Don't forget why you're here.
We all want the same thing.
All right, people, let's focus up!
The name of the game is Raymond Reddington.
He's inside that perimeter,
and if he's crawled into some rat hole,
I wanna know where!
Last Sunday at Perkins,
I put a couple of these hazelnut creamers in my purse.
Paula, did you happen to read the paper this morning?
Nope. Too much gloom and doom.
Save me the obits, though.
It's a great way to find eligible men.
One woman's widower is another woman's gain,I suppose.
_
I want to hear your best funeral pick-up line,
but first, Paula,
there's something important we need to discuss.
Take a breath.
I'm fine.
Clearly you're not fine.
That's understandable. But you can't be punching Congressmen.
Especially that one.
Just checking to see if you're okay.
It suddenly feels crowded in here.
You realize the investigation is happening down there?
Yeah, I can't with them.
At the risk of sounding unprofessional, same.
I realize I haven't known Reddington as long as you have,
but it still feels weird
teaming up with strangers to hunt him down.
I don't want to lose my dental, so don't tell the windbreakers,
but part of me is rooting for Red.
Maybe part of me is, too.
But personal feelings aside,
the five of us have a decision to make right here, right now.
This team has always had one mission,
to bring criminals to justice.
When Reddington was with us, he understood that.
But he's chosen to walk away.
And now those men down there
have asked us to deliver him up.
We could make their jobs harder if we want to.
But what would that say about us?
They want us to find Reddington to save our own skins.
But I want us to find him because that's who we are.
Now, if you don't agree,
if you can't commit to using everything you have
to bring Reddington in to face justice head on,
then you should step aside.
Okay then.
Now we just have to figure out where the hell he is.
One thing's for sure,
he's gonna get outta DC as soon as possible.
Andrea? It's Raymond.
I'm curious,
what homes do you have right now on the market?
Something small, modest,
east of Capitol Street, south of the Mall.
I do have one a little further west in Adams Morgan.
Updated kitchen,
nice hardwood floors...
No, no, no. That won't do, I'm afraid.
My needs are quite specific.
Okay.
I have something on Westover Drive,
bit of a fixer-upper.
Actually, never mind.
Too much fixer, not enough upper.
Is it owner-occupied?
No, it's vacant.
Hmm. Sounds perfect.
It's a total gut.
I don't even think it has a functioning toilet.
Not to worry, Andrea.
We'll be taking it right down to the foundation.
You understand what I'm saying?
- The foundation? Right. - Excellent.
How soon can you pull down the sign?
We've identified 17 different locations
where Reddington might have gone to ground inside the containment zone.
Businesses connected through Morgana Logistics,
underworld hideouts he frequented,
and addresses of his known associates.
Agent Zuma, you've been awfully quiet.
Don't you have some ideas from your history?
What exactly are you implying, Congressman?
Over the years, there have been a lot of keys and doors.
I could draw you a map, but I'm quite sure Raymond
has changed his protocol since I've...
We've tried to explain to you that Raymond...
Please, no more speeches about his brilliant mind.
We need to get rolling.
Everyone, listen up.
We've got a list of 17 locations.
Reddington could be hiding out in any one of them.
I need you to break into teams and work down the list.
You're gonna be searching private homes and businesses.
There may be civilians on site,
they may be hostile to your efforts.
So I expect you to exercise caution,
but I want all these places cleared by end of day.
You've got a hunch, don't you?
And it's not on that list, is it?
So why don't you...
Because if I'm wrong,
I would hate to cause this person any unnecessary distress.
If Reddington's holed up with them,
they must be a formidable ally?
Not really.
But Raymond really loves her Scotcheroos.
Her what?
Everyone's clear on the timeline?
It's an awfully short window.
Our girl's built for speed.
I don't think it'll be a problem.
How's she look?
Gorgeous as the day we bought her.
All righty.
Forgive me, Paula.
I came to visit you,
and here I am chatting away on the phone.
I assume you have a good reason.
My Jellybean used to keep lines of people waiting at the DMV
just to take the girls out for a tinkle.
He loved those poodles.
I'm glad you brought that up.
I've been pondering Glen.
I've been trying to think of a fitting
and more permanent way to honor his memory.
A trust or a foundation,
a charitable something, something in his name.
But what would make sense for Glen?
I thought of the people he's touched in his life,
his colleagues at the DMV, his fellow bowlers.
We should probably skip over
what Glen loved to touch the most.
But the point is, what kind of a man was he?
What did he care about?
What worthwhile causes did he champion?
Huh.
Nothing really comes to mind.
Nothing respectable, anyway.
It has been an uphill battle.
As you know, he had a few passionate interests,
most of them quite unmentionable,
in polite company at least.
He gave little to charity,
found most people basically insufferable,
and vice versa.
I thought, perhaps, his alma mater,
but how do you honor his legacy of catcalling coeds
and dropping out his third semester?
I don't know. Maybe I'll just endow a Chair at Harvard,
the School of Public Health or something.
Not what Glen would've chosen, but who knows?
Perhaps if he'd exhausted
all other uses for his time and money,
he might've done something good for humanity.
You never know.
And Paula, I'd like to make you a part of it.
How about Honorary Member of the selection committee?
I love any excuse to throw a party!
You think those Harvard snobs
could handle a nice big bowl of cheeseburger chowder?
Raymond,
you are so sweet to visit me,
but you better shake a leg.
It's not safe for you to be in one place for too long.
So you have been reading the paper.
Well, you just looked so cute in that picture,
I wanted to cut it out and put it in my scrapbook.
My dear, it's been a pleasure.
The greatest pleasure.
Paula.
Dembe?
Oh, is this a new gal pal of yours?
She's a cutie pie.
We need to find Raymond, Paula.
Oh...
I'll check upstairs.
Well, here, take a load off.
I'd offer you some Scotcheroos,
but someone ate the last one.
I'm guessing that someone was Mr. Reddington?
We want to keep you out of trouble, Paula,
but you need to talk to us.
Okay, fine.
He came knockin' on my door, and I took him straight to bed.
Oh, take your minds out of the gutter, you two.
He didn't get any sleep last night,
so I let him catch a few winks in Jelly's old room.
Now, what's wrong with that?
Nothing, apart from aiding and abetting a fugitive.
He told me what to do about that.
He said that if some pushy FBI agents
were to come around here,
I should tell them everything.
- Everything? - That's what he said.
Every little detail,
so you can't charge me with anything.
The first thing I noticed,
something was clearly weighing on his mind.
And, uh, and then, he wouldn't get off the phone.
Who was he calling?
I don't know.
If you expect to get out of this by trading information,
you actually have to give us some information.
Well, if you're gonna beat it outta me.
It... It was a woman.
I'm not the jealous type, so I didn't eavesdrop, um,
but her name was...
Andrea something or other.
I'm just about to get the key out of the lock box.
Then we're right on schedule.
No way! You're a contractor.
Um, we may have a slight problem.
It needs a little work, but the bones are good.
Now lemme show you that AC unit you were asking about.
There's people here. They're taking a tour.
Well, you just gotta get them to leave.
Andrea, come on, you've got this.
You go, girl.
Okay...
Her name is Andrea Athens. Raymond introduced us.
She's the one who found him a space
to serve as a duplicate Post Office.
Wait, what duplicate...
It's a long story with a super boring ending.
Based on a hunch,
we thought it might be wise to track Andrea down.
But we couldn't get ahold of her.
She wouldn't answer her phone.
We tried calling her office, but, apparently,
she dropped everything to attend to a VIP client's emergency.
That sounds like Raymond.
Wait a minute. What are you two getting at?
You think Reddington hired this woman to, what?
Buy him a safe house?
That's unclear, but before Andrea left the office,
she asked for her assistant for the lockbox code
at 1120 Westover Drive.
That's outside the containment zone.
Does that mean Reddington got through the barricades?
If he has, he may already be on site.
We're heading there now.
- Get SWAT on the line... - Alert Metro PD...
Uh, we'll scramble units to meet you at the house.
You love the house, right?
Who cares about the mold?
- What mold? - Exactly! That's what I say.
- What mold. - No, what mold?
You didn't tell us there was mold.
There's no mold in the disclosure.
And if they didn't disclose it, then where's the mold?
- There is no mold! - Is it the toxic kind...
It isn't any kind because it doesn't exist.
I agree, mind over matter.
In this market,
you gotta be willing to overlook
some of the little things.
A little mold, who cares?
Is it that black mold?
Black, green, brown, whatever! Whatever!
Okay, we're outta here.
Mike, let's go.
Thanks a lot.
- I'm gonna remember this. - Oh.
Buh-bye, now!
Happy hunting!
Donald told me you were a menace behind the wheel.
Come on, Grandma, we're trying to catch a fugitive.
Are you sure you're ready for this?
To get out of the car?
Definitely.
No, I mean...
Well, I know we all agreed to take Reddington down,
but now that it actually might happen,
are you gonna feel okay putting him in cuffs?
I'm not really sure.
I guess we'll have to find out when it happens.
What's your ETA?
Uh, we're just down the street.
Backup's five minutes out. Hold your position.
You are a menace.
Uh, look...
If Reddington's inside,
we don't move until we have the house surrounded.
We're pretty sure he's not in the house.
How do you know that?
Because it's on fire, sir.
I don't get it. Why would he go to all the trouble
of securing a safe house just to burn it down?
Clear the way! We've got a house going up in smoke!
All right, let 'em through! Let 'em through!
What are we missing here?
Well, I dunno, I mean, maybe this is the wrong house?
It could just be a bizarre coincidence.
No, wait, listen.
Raymond's using the fire. That's how he's getting out.
You need to alert all checkpoints.
Stop any fire truck from getting through the barricade.
Reddington's likely headed south, southeast.
Know what he's driving.
Agent Nixon, would you care to...
Notify ground units, contact MPD.
Agent Ressler, coordinate with Tactical.
I want eyes in the sky.
Let's find that truck!
Clean it and leave it. We're gone in five.
Catch you on the flip side, Chuck.
It's time for an update.
Where are we?
Uh, same place that we were nine hours ago.
We shifted the containment zone south.
The units are going door-to-door.
Still no sign of Raymond or the truck.
Or Andrea Athens.
She's in the wind.
I don't even care about divided loyalties anymore,
I just wanna find him so I can take a nap
and oh, God, a shower.
You gotta admit, though,
that stunt with the firetruck was pretty metal.
Oh, please, we're all thinking it.
Here's what I've been thinking.
I spent my rookie years chasing him,
my next decade working alongside of him,
only now putting him away's gonna end my career.
What do you mean "end"? Y-You're not retiring.
No, but... I mean, come on.
Even if we catch Reddington,
you really think Hudson's letting any of us walk away from this?
We got it! We got the truck.
Where's Agent Nixon?
Oh, he's on the phone updating... someone.
Get him in here. He needs to hear this.
Firetruck was abandoned... here.
In a warehouse outside Capitol Heights.
Finally, something we can use.
Let's scramble a team.
Start canvassing for witnesses.
Pull every traffic cam in a 20-block radius.
Knock, knock, knock.
- Good news. - Come in. Shut the door.
We found the firetruck.
- Was Reddington... - Nah, he cleared out.
But we're checking the cameras in the area.
Should ID his getaway vehicle any minute now.
Great, so that just puts us,
oh, right, nine hours behind.
That's nine hours for Reddington
to ditch whatever getaway car you're talking about and go
pretty much anywhere in the country. Or the world, for that matter.
Hey, look, I'm just here to help you catch your guy.
If you don't like the way I'm doing things...
It's not you. It's them.
What do think they're doing out there?
We should've taken Reddington at that airfield two days ago.
But he disappears just as we arrived.
Then we lock down an entire district,
and he slips past us at the barricade.
How many times do we have to fail before we admit
there's a reason he's always one step ahead?
He's good at what he does.
He's been doing it for decades.
But this time it's different, right?
'Cause now we've got his team helping us...
Unless it's not us they're helping.
They're the Reddington Task Force.
It's in their goddamn name.
If you're right,
we're gonna nail them to the wall.
Where's Nixon going?
Who knows?
Why don't we go ahead and review what we've got?
Unfortunately, we couldn't recover
any of the security footage of Reddington
or his crew exiting the warehouse.
Our field photographer took these.
What about this?
It's a red-light camera, activates when you go through the light.
I guess there's some laws that Reddington does obey.
But there are other CCTV cameras in the surrounding neighborhood.
We're isolating every car that passed by
in the hours after the fire.
We're up to 30 vehicles and counting.
Reddington could be in any one of them.
I'll talk to Agent Nixon,
see if he can get some help running facial recognition and tracking.
After ten hours, we're gonna have to comb through a lot of footage
to trace the trajectory of his car.
He breached the barricade here.
He abandoned his truck here.
He's heading east.
A lifetime ago at a party on the Hicacos Peninsula,
Raymond exchanged some sweet nothings
with the wife of our host.
He was made to understand
that his life would be worth nothing,
or his death would be worth too much,
if he spent another night in Varadero.
So we stole our host's speedboat and set out for Havana.
That's when he told me,
"In times of trouble you go one of two ways,
up in the sky or out to sea."
Now we know he didn't go up, not without his jet.
But what about out?
Congratulations.
You're not the only one who's paranoid anymore.
It's not paranoia if it's real.
This real enough for you?
I pulled phone records for all outgoing calls from this building,
the day we lost Reddington on the tarmac.
Mmm-hmm?
Minutes after we learned the location of the jet,
there was a ten-second call to a burner phone
that pinged to a tower on highway 50,
right down the road from the airfield.
- Reddington's burner phone. - You were right.
Someone did call to warn him.
Who was it?
Operating off of Dembe's theory,
we ran down any ships with ties to Morgana.
We figured that Reddington would want to push off
somewhere nearby with minimal security.
Bluefish Pier is closest, but it's popular with tourists
which means a lot of eyeballs with nothing better to do
than call the FBI tip line.
Can't ya just see Red photobombing a selfie?
It's like, "Did you catch a fish on vacation?"
"No, no. I caught a fugitive."
Anyway, the second one, Finley's Landing,
it's just a bunch of rich boys and their toys,
yachts, sailboats, that kind of thing.
Wait... Tillman's Wharf.
What?
Raymond used to have an interest
in some commercial fishing boats docked there.
He shielded most of his investments
behind various shell companies,
but he enjoyed the perks of supplying the freshest seafood
to restaurants and markets around the city.
You're thinking that fleet had a secondary purpose?
Why risk a traffic stop on land when you can jump on a boat
and be in open water within a few hours?
It's a good hunch.
Let's gear up and head down...
Everyone, stop what you're doing.
That's him.
What is this? What are you doing?
Take him to interrogation.
Now you're questioning your own people?
What kind of an outfit are you running?
I wouldn't worry about it. Mr Cooper.
As you said, Agent Ishwood doesn't report to you.
Whatever he's being questioned about,
it should be conducted by either you or me.
And right now, we don't have the time to waste.
Agent Zuma has a credible lead.
We need to get to Tillman's Wharf now.
All right, Zuma, you come with me.
You can explain on the way.
The rest of you stay put.
And Mr. Cooper, if you'd like to sit in
on the conversation between Agent Ishwood and Congressman Hudson,
please, feel free.
Your wife completed a law degree two years ago?
Yes, sir.
You have a mortgage and two kids in private school.
How'd you pay tuition?
We borrowed from her brother.
Marcus.
Marcus Kennedy.
Something wrong, Agent Ishwood?
No, sir. I just... I...
I'll tell you what's wrong,
the three of us wasting time in this room
while the world's most wanted man gets further away by the minute.
Agent Ishwood is a ten-year veteran of the Bureau
with a sterling record.
So if you're building to a point, Mr. Hudson,
I suggest you make it now.
Fourteen minutes before our response teams arrived
at the airfield where we tracked Reddington's jet,
a call was made from your phone to a burner at the airfield.
So I'd say we're here to figure out why Agent Ishwood
decided to betray his country.
That number corresponds to the cell phone
taken from you earlier today, does it not?
Yes, sir, but I didn't make that call.
I don't believe you.
Tell me about your first year with the Bureau.
- Mr. Cooper, please... - You don't have to believe him.
We have surveillance devices all over this facility.
If Agent Ishwood did make that call, we'll see it.
And you won't.
Sir.
Lead the way.
Special Agent Zuma, FBI.
This is Special Agent Nixon.
We need the location of these five vessels.
I'm afraid it's urgent.
Okay. Let me check the logs.
That's Agent Ishwood at the exact moment the call was made.
Doesn't appear to be on his phone to me.
So either he gave the phone to someone
or someone took it from him.
Do you mind?
First three on your list set out last month.
And, uh, the Amy Jo's been in dry dock, for the last two weeks.
What about The Great Shirley?
Yeah.
- Huh. - What is it?
Great Shirley got in yesterday.
She was supposed to go to dry dock for some engine work,
but looks like they resupplied last night
and headed right back out.
Raymond left on a commercial fishing boat late last night.
- Are you sure he was on it? - Yes.
Call Coast Guard Base Portsmouth.
We need them to use every vessel
they have to track them on radar.
Oh, my God!
Put the phone down and put your hands on your head.
- Now. - Dembe?
I'm telling you, he's on that boat.
Herbie, try and get Dembe back on the line.
Somebody get me the Commander of the Coast Guard's fifth district.
Hold on a minute, Mr. Ressler.
We won't be taking any more cues from Agent Zuma.
What? We need to find that boat.
No, we don't because Raymond Reddington is nowhere near that vessel.
- I understand your hesitation... - Hesitation, sir?
but if we have a lead, we need to pursue it.
I don't know what this is, but Agent Zuma just...
Dembe Zuma's under arrest.
On what charge?
Aiding and abetting a fugitive.
At 3:55 p.m. just before our raid
on Reddington's jet at the airfield,
a call was placed from Agent Ishwood's phone
to a cell phone in the vicinity.
We believe that phone belonged to Raymond Reddington.
Only Agent Ishwood didn't make that call,
Zuma did.
Here is Agent Ishwood at the time of the call.
And here is Agent Zuma
90 seconds after the call ended.
He was clever enough to avoid taking the phone on camera...
But here he is putting it back.
Hope he washed his hands.
I'm telling you, he's on that boat.
If we don't get him now, we never will.
Nice truck.
Where's the boat?
We sunk it.
You smell like fish.
Crab, actually.
We'll roll down the windows.
He's definitely slipping something
into Ishwood's pocket,
but maybe it's not a phone. Maybe it's
a small, phone-shaped thing.
Herbie, just could you...
Sorry.
Look, I've grown quite fond of Dembe, truly,
but should we really be that surprised?
I mean, he spent decades with Reddington.
It couldn't have been easy to sever that kind of connection.
No one was more suspect of Dembe joining the FBI than me,
but he's proven himself time and time again
to be a dedicated, thorough, honest agent.
Who called his best friend to keep him from a life in prison.
You sure you wouldn't have done the same if the roles were reversed?
I'm not.
I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Red.
I love him.
I mean, not as much as he loves Holly, my wife,
which I guess I've always been strangely comfortable with.
But the point is, everything about chasing him feels wrong,
and I haven't known him half as long as Dembe.
What I can't figure out, though,
is that if Dembe did warn Reddington,
why take us to the real-estate agent?
Why lead us to the wharf?
He say anything on the way over?
- Not a word. - All right.
Excuse me. I need to speak with Agent Zuma.
Given the circumstances, I don't think that'd be appropriate.
I appreciate the counsel, but Agent Zuma reports to me.
If you have a problem with me speaking with one of my people,
you can take it up with the Attorney General.
Stand aside.
Traffic is slowed down on Route 264
with a tractor trailer off on the shoulder.
In other news, police have a suspect in custody
after a string of burglaries targeting mobile homes
outside of Fairfield, and a...
At least I'm not on the news down here.
Mmm. The seaplane is fueled.
You'll need to leave as soon as we arrive.
It'll be nice to get out of the country.
Where are you off to next?
A meeting outside Bogota.
Will I see you?
When it's safe.
With any luck, we'll be back on the mountain
by the start of the rainy season.
We'll see.
Your people at the wharf.
Mary was questioned by the FBI.
What is it?
Dembe was taken away in handcuffs.
It's not your fault, Raymond.
You didn't ask him to interfere.
I know.
Coast Guard just called off the search.
The boat's vanished.
Then he's gone.
Maybe. But not because of you.
I want you to know, Dembe, you're gonna have
my full support in disputing these accusations.
Whatever that tape suggests...
I won't be fighting any charges.
I stole Agent Ishwood's phone,
and I warned Raymond about the raid.
Why, Dembe?
If Congressman Hudson and Agent Nixon
had cornered him on the airfield,
Raymond would have refused to surrender
and he and any number of agents would have been killed.
You were trying to save lives.
And you spent the last 48 hours
trying to find Reddington and bring him in safely.
If we explain that to the Attorney General...
It won't matter.
Raymond is gone.
And someone on this Task Force will be held accountable.
It should be me.
That's absurd.
Every member of this team bears responsibility
for what we've done here.
If you think I'm gonna let you take all of that on your shoulders...
We are not the same, Harold.
You operated in a legal gray area.
I spent over two decades at the right hand
of the world's greatest criminal.
You're not that man anymore.
No, I'm not.
And I'm grateful for my time on the Task Force, but...
Mr. Cooper, please step away from the table.
- What's going on here? - Put it on.
I did what you suggested.
The Attorney General agrees that Agent Zuma should be
transferred to FBI headquarters for further questioning.
I don't trust you.
I don't trust him.
And I certainly don't trust this place.
You won't be pulling rank to speak to our suspect again.
Let's go.
Where do you think you're going, Agent Ressler?
Oh, with you.
I intend to be present for Agent Zuma's questioning.
If you don't like it, well,
you can slap some cuffs on me, as well.
No, no, I won't make the vote.
Tell the whip I'll explain when I can.
Believe me, this is more important.
You know, I almost have to hand it to him.
Getting his man inside the FBI...
It's ballsy.
Whatever you may think, Congressman,
I didn't join the Task Force for Raymond.
Whatever you say.
Dembe.
I got you. I got you.
- Okay. - Keys.
- You okay? - My leg's pinned.
All right. You stay here.
You all right?
We'll get you patched up.
But we've gotta keep moving.
Let's load up.
Raymond...
I'm not going with you.
They'll put you in a cell for years.
It's my choice.
Don't...
Don't move.
Congressman, please, lower your weapon.
It's not what you think.
Put the gun down, Chuck.
Everyone, calm down.
Put the gun down, Chuck!
Shooting a man is rather different
than convicting him of a capital offense, Congressman.
Congressman Hudson, please.
Stay away from me.
No is going to hurt you. Please, lower your weapon.
I don't trust you. You're his guy.
No, I'm not.
I don't trust any of you.
I'm on your side here. I'm not going anywhere.
But I'm asking you, please, lower your weapon.
Stay back! Stay back!
What the hell?
- Red... - In the van.
In the van.
*CREDITS*