Need a warm up, hon?
No. Thanks. Just the check.
Be right...
Right back.
Hey, are you okay?
Hey, Phoebe, what's the matter?
I don't know what's wrong.
I...
I feel dizzy, like... I can't...
- Hey. Hey. - Honey, you're burning up.
- Oh, Phoebe! - Is there a doctor here?!
- Somebody call an ambulance! - Phoebe?
...My head, that ringing...
Please, I can't... something's wrong.
She seems to be having some kind of viral reaction.
Ambulance is on its way.
We have to call the CDC right now.
You can't keep me here.
Yeah, we both feel fine.
I got another.
Can somebody explain what's going on?
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Dr. Marcus Joffey.
I'm a CDC investigator.
This facility is being placed under quarantine.
We need to identify who needs immediate care.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
I took the liberty.
Is this latex or memory foam.
He broke into my house.
I wake up in the middle of the night,
the man's sitting on the edge of my bed.
Reddington has a flair for the dramatic.
He threatened to kill me.
If you divulge his relationship with the FBI.
So don't.
We told you about this to gain your trust.
Reddington just wants you to help me find my husband's killer.
That's what he said.
Although he seemed more interested
in where I bought my mattress.
You said you had a way to draw out the killer,
what do you call him... Damascus.
We don't know his real name,
just that he's a cop who's protecting drug dealers
with the Nash syndicate.
I'm part of an inter-agency task force
trying to bring them down.
Every time we get a lead,
Damascus tips them off, and we get nothing.
Which means whoever killed Tom
has a line in on his task force.
So at my next meeting,
I'm gonna let it be known
that we have a snitch of our own.
Someone inside the syndicate who can ID Damascus.
Bobby Navarro,
former dealer from the syndicate who's gone missing.
We'll tell them where and when I'll meet Navarro
and that he's gonna ID Damascus.
And whoever shows up to stop that from happening
will either be Damascus
or someone that can lead us to him.
Detective Singleton, as I'm sure you'll agree,
a dirty cop is a good cop's worst enemy.
Still, it's hard to go after one of our own.
And dangerous.
I appreciate your determination.
Agent Keen, reach out to Reddington.
Please implore him that, moving forward,
he should stay off the detective's mattress.
I'm sorry, I'm out.
Yes. Of jail. Because of me.
And in exchange for said freedom,
you owe me one genuine, bona fide, Earl Fagen,
electrical-wires-somehow- got-crossed inferno.
Then you're out.
No. Then I'm in.
I mean, then I'm back in.
You're waving coke in front of an addict.
Then take a snort.
This isn't a negotiation.
It's an assignment.
I have a business that's become a liability.
I need you to burn it down.
Critter Cabin. We're in the book.
There you are. I have a case.
And I have a request... Take it easy on Singleton.
- He's on our side. - For now.
Because he's afraid not to be.
I find a good bedside chat
to be effective and exhilarating.
He and I have a plan.
And if works out, it'll ID Tom's killer.
And then what?
If it turns out to be a cop,
what are you gonna do then?
Let the system close ranks around one of its own?
Let him lawyer up? Stand trial?
Juries acquit cops even when they have video
showing those cops shooting innocent victims.
You think a jury will take your word over his,
your memory?
The memory of someone
who suffered such significant brain trauma
she was in a coma for 10 months.
Why are you telling me this?
Because you and I both know
this doesn't end in a courtroom.
It ends on the street.
I want you to be prepared for that.
About this case...
The only case I'm interested in working on
is Tom's murder.
Well, unfortunately this is an urgent one.
There's been a rather acute viral outbreak
in New York City,
and I'm afraid it was not a natural occurrence.
Nine months ago, Reddington was approached
by Jumbal Mazi Okoro,
a South African black-market trader
who was looking to secure a rare viral agent
for his client.
Okoro was requesting a pathogen
with "maximum contagion capabilities."
Reddington never facilitated the trade
citing ethical issues.
Go figure.
But based on this morning's incident,
Reddington believes this client may be responsible
for the attacks in New York.
Agent Mojtabai.
Something funny?
What? Oh.
Uh, no.
Uh, sorry, I was just... watching Agent Keen.
It's, uh... it's good to have you back.
- Even if it's on restricted duty. - Thanks, Aram.
What makes Reddington think there's a connection?
Okoro was looking to obtain the same kind of pathogen...
a highly concentrated,
purified form of organic chemicals.
- Now, can Reddington ID the client? - No.
And neither can Okoro, who was killed in November.
But based on this morning's incident,
Reddington believes his would-be client
may be active on U.S. soil.
I'll notify HHS and Homeland.
Ressler, Navabi, coordinate with the boots on the ground
and see if the CDC
has uncovered anything that supports this.
Lab confirmed it's a viral pathogen...
likely airborne and replicating quickly.
When we arrived, we had 26 confirmed cases...
customers, first responders.
In the last six hours, that number's tripled.
- What about your quarantine? - Three square blocks.
NYPD has another 12 in lockdown.
How do you know it's a targeted attack?
Intel from a confidential source.
Uh, Do you think this may be a designer virus?
All I is what my people told you on the phone.
About the woman.
Here. With the notebook.
She somehow managed to slip out
before we could ID the infected...
could be a mistake,
but wherever she is, she's not here now.
Can you roll that back?
It's an inhaler.
We suspect it may contain
some kind of anti-viral agent.
Looks like we have a suspect.
Aram, I'm gonna send you some CCTV images.
We're gonna need an ID right away.
Tell your confidential source
if he knows anything else,
he's going to need to tell us,
because we're going to have fatalities on our hands
within the hour.
We just got word of NYPD
responding to a call at New York General.
Is that where they're treating the infected?
Yes, but there may be more...
Another... another outbreak.
They found some kind of biological device.
It doesn't make any sense.
Why would she try to infect them a second time?
They're already sick.
Uh, you're not gonna believe this,
but I don't think we're looking at another virus here.
Why, what is it?
_
It's the cure.
16 people are in serious condition.
- Seven are critical. - Tell me again...
why aren't they being given the antidote?
The CDC wants to test it first.
How about on the victims?
What's the worst that can happen?
- They're dying anyway. - We've confirmed it's her.
It's the same woman who caused the infection.
Why would she infect people
only to provide them with the cure?
Okay, hang on. I got an ID.
Here we go.
Captain Patricia Sue Edwards.
Uh, she's a biochemist.
Formerly with the United States Army
Medical Research Institute of Infectious Disease.
USAMRIID. The germ-warfare guys.
Married to Lieutenant Commander Dennis Edwards.
NAVY Seal.
"All in, all the time." The best of the best.
Yeah, well, put a pin in that.
'Cause in March 2017,
Lieutenant Commander Edwards
was stationed in Manbij, Syria,
tasked with securing the area
to facilitate the liberation of Raqqa.
His record had always been exemplary,
up until another SEAL caught him
stealing a truck full of confiscated opium.
- Was he court-martialed? - Killed.
By the same SEAL who caught him.
And Judge Advocate ruled
that that SEAL was acting in self-defense.
Did they investigate the wife?
Uh, yeah, but nothing conclusive...
but she was stripped
of her security clearance at USAMRIID
before resigning her commission.
Which means she lost access
to the chemical and biological weapons.
Apparently she's gotten over that hurdle.
There was a story in the news today.
About an outbreak.
I think you'll like it.
Red, I told you from day one, Heddie's no good.
She knows how to cook the books,
but she's a little n-n-n-nutty, excitable.
And now she's taken a powder,
we're about to be audited, and so what...
now you got this f... this... this... this guy?
To what? To light a match and.
Boom. There goes this... this sweet little deal we got going?
Smokey, as you well know, Heddie did not take a powder.
She's lying in her bed right now,
sneezing and wheezing,
swollen up like a puffer fish.
I'm afraid all the dogs and cats
finally got the best of her.
Be that as it may, mistakes are mistakes,
and I'm telling you she's out of her depth.
And now, with the new tax law,
forget about it!
It is "eaz-in-c-eaz-om-pre-eaz-
e-h-eaz-en-s-eaz-i- b-eazle."
All I can tell you for sure is
little guys and nonprofits are screwed.
I want you to go to our vet
and find out how he disposes
of the animals he puts down.
We're gonna need about half a dozen.
Half a dozen what?
Skeletons.
To make it look authentic.
Couple of dogs. Cats.
I think we shampoo the occasional marmot.
In order to melt structural components,
we need a High Temperature Accelerant fire.
Your typical fire generates about 2,000 degrees.
We add a little thermite,
we could boost that up to 4,500 degrees.
Even if the fire department shows up early
and starts spraying water,
they'll just aggravate the flames.
Leave you nothing but memories.
Look, I never said I didn't love it.
I just said I shouldn't do it.
Earl, you have a gift.
Others create, you destroy.
Mr. Hepworth.
Thomas Dekker.
Mr. Dekker.
As you know, the IRS is conducting
- an audit of Critter Cabin LLC... - Let me ask you...
How come you get to audit me
and I don't get to audit you?
About the audit...
Granted, you use my money for some worthy causes...
roads, schools...
but building a border wall,
prosecuting people for smoking pot,
building even more prisons
to hold even more young men of color?
Why should my money finance that?
There seem to be some discrepancies
in your unrelated business income.
Hershey. Hershey. Hershey.
You're missing the point.
If I could direct your attention
to Form 990-T, Part 1, 4a...
The point, the essential point,
is this...
we're all sinners.
Oh. Sinning. That's the point.
Lust. Gluttony. Sloth.
Three of my favorites.
But you're here because of my greed.
Tell me, what's your sin, Mr. Hepworth?
I don't...
Of course you do.
"For all have sinned
and fall short of the Glory of God."
Testify, Brother Hershey.
Okay, I don't think that...
Don't think. Flow.
I, uh...
That's it. Let it out.
Let it out.
I hate this job.
Amen, to that.
My kid...
he's incredible.
And he's desperate to go to high school at Davenport Academy.
But the headmaster won't let him in
because of what I do, what I did.
I audited his sister.
Don't despair, Brother Hershey.
Your job is what kept your son out,
and now it will be what gets him in.
How's it gonna do that?
I'm going to do that.
In exchange for services rendered by you.
Or, to be more precise... not rendered by you.
Rumor is you got a bomb to drop on the task force.
- That a fact? - Tactical friggin' nuke.
I'm all a-tingle.
I tailed Keen.
She didn't lead me to Reddington,
- but she did lead me to someone else. - Who?
Robert Navarro.
Navarro?
I figured he got himself whacked.
What he got himself was a deal with the Feds.
Snitch?
Cut a deal.
Immunity in exchange
for everything he knows about Nash syndicate.
Names. Suppliers. Amounts.
He's gonna tell all that to the Feds?
Everything we've been trying to find out for a year.
Talk about getting caught with your hands in your pants.
Navarro's gonna meet his contact this afternoon...
at a Fed safe house on Water Street.
The Bureau is promising transcripts.
That's no tactical nuke, my friend.
That's thermo-friggin'-nuclear.
So we'll drop it on the boys.
You go ahead. I'll be right there.
We ran a sample of Edwards' virus
which we're uploading to Atlanta now.
Naturally-occurring Nipah has one strand of RNA.
Hers has two.
That sounds bad.
She genetically spliced a secondary strand
onto the virus.
No idea why.
We'll know more when we hear back from Atlanta.
Network alert.
Access denied.
- What's going on? - I don't know.
- I'm locked out. - Atlanta's down.
- Everyone's down. - Well, how's that even possible?
I have no idea.
But it seems like the biological virus
is now infecting our entire network.
You're telling me a human virus infected a computer network.
How is that possible?
All right, code is code... ones and zeroes.
What's changed is
that we can now manipulate the human genome
to implant malicious code into it.
When the infected DNA from the victims
was analyzed and uploaded to the CDC's network,
the computer virus was uploaded with it.
So the purpose of the outbreak
was to hijack the CDC's server.
And lock us out. But why?
The CDC server could give her
the locations and access codes
to thousands of deadly viruses.
The only way I can see for sure
what she's doing inside the system
is to physically access the server farm.
Then that's what you're going to do.
Sir, uh, that's what I would like to do.
There's just one small problem...
This is the quarantine zone,
and this... this is the server farm
that supplies the CDC's computer system.
That's a very strange coincidence.
Or Edwards chose her target
with exactly that in mind.
Thank you so much, Miss Timmons.
The board couldn't be happier.
Now, don't forget your jersey.
Ooh.
Isn't it marvelous?
Very sporting.
And, please.
Thank you.
Mr. Dekker, is it?
Yes.
Very impressive.
What a gymnasium...
a real shrine to athleticism.
I can just feel the testosterone.
We've wanted to build it for years.
But one neighbor refused to sell an adjoining plot...
until about five minutes ago.
The charming lady who just left?
It's been a very good day.
Well, then allow me
to make it an even better one.
Every great athletic facility
requires spectacular locker rooms
for all those inspirational pre-game sermons,
the half time pep talks,
all that post-game towel snapping
and rump slapping.
Let me be forthright.
If you're willing to offer enrollment at the academy
to a very, very promising young man that I know,
then I'd be willing to pay for those locker rooms.
That is very generous.
His name is Charlie Hepworth.
Now, I know there's been some bad blood between you...
I'm afraid that's rather an understatement.
His father's audit cost my sister her company.
Yes, but to be fair,
should poor Charlie really have to suffer
the consequences of his father's doggedness
and your sister's indiscretions?
Thank you, Mr. Dekker,
but I'm going to have to turn down
- your generous offer. - Mm.
There must be something I can do to change your mind.
I can't think of a thing.
Well, let's see if I can.
Can you really intercept cell phones with that thing?
Anyone in range makes a call,
this picks up the device ID number.
That way we get whoever shows up
and anyone they reach out to for help.
If I haven't said it... thank you for this.
Coffee?
Yeah.
My girls call this "Daddy mud."
How old are they?
13 and 10.
My wife took them last year.
Found herself another guy.
I have a daughter too.
She's not with me right now either.
She's with her grandmother.
I have to get through this first.
My ex's guy lives in Orlando.
Except for vacations, my kids do too.
Life's something, isn't it?
Unsolicited advice...
you need a better lawyer.
Make a deal...
we catch Damascus, you go see your daughter,
I get myself a new lawyer.
Deal.
There's a barcode in his window.
It's a rental.
You recognize him?
No.
Maybe hired muscle.
Hey. It's me.
Yeah.
I don't know, but there's no sign of Navarro.
Right.
I'll go in for a closer look.
Once you enter the hot zone,
your rebreather will have 20 minutes of air.
Beyond that, oxygen levels fall
and the environment inside your suit
will change dramatically.
Carbon-monoxide levels spike,
causing nausea, dizziness...
Got it. So, uh, what you're saying is...
if the virus doesn't kill me, the suit will.
Nothing is going to kill you.
Look, we got you on comm
so we can physically guide you to the servers.
Once you get there, tap the terminal.
Figure out what Edwards is doing in there
and get out.
Okay, listen.
You can do this.
You're going to be great.
Okay?
What?
I have to pee.
Kidding.
I'm totally kidding.
Just... come on, I'm trying to lighten the mood here.
It's... Oh. Okay.
You getting this?
Not yet.
He's leaving.
Yeah.
Nobody.
The place is empty.
I don't know, maybe you got bad intel,
but there's nobody here.
We're not gonna get another shot at this.
We won't need one.
_
Aram, when you exit the elevator,
there's gonna be a door to your immediate right.
That's the door to the server room.
I see it.
How am I doing on oxygen?
Nine minutes.
Nine minutes, huh?
Actually, eight.
All right. Aram, you got to listen to me.
You're looking for the server row D-52.
That's gonna be the fourth row from the east wall.
Dr. Moshay, this is probably
as good a time as any to tell you
I admire the CDC and the work you do.
But perhaps one of your scientists could...
you know, could find a way to equip these hazmats
with a... you know, a simple, uh, inline recirculating fan
to cool them off a bit.
Oh! Okay, I found it.
I found it. D-52. We're here.
Okay. Okay.
- Seven minutes. - He'll make it.
All right, I need the root password.
It's 12-Net-4-Hotel-Bravo.
Let me see...
I can't really see through this mask.
Okay, I'm in. I'm in.
All right, now I'm, uh......
scanning for unknown processes.
He's running through his air faster than he should be.
We need to pull him out.
Aram, you need to focus.
I am. I just...
I can't see here. So...
- You're gonna have to. - Aram, listen to me.
Do you remember Thanksgiving?
Do you remember that diatribe
your brother-in-law went on about immigration?
Do you remember how you coped?
I gorged on apple cobbler.
You told me you breathed...
- I breathed. - You tried to breathe.
And remember what happened
- when you focused on your breathing? - We need to call it.
You said you found a sense of calm.
You were able to separate yourself from anxiety
- and just be. - Uh, Samar, this is, um...
this is, like, super cool of you...
I know you're helping, but I figured it out.
She's jumped the system.
What does that mean?
Okay, government computer systems are networked,
and if what I'm seeing here is right,
then Edwards is using the CDC portal
to launch a search in SIPRNet and the DoD.
Those are the most classified networks in the country.
She's trolling their databases.
- Looking for what? - That's just it.
She's using some kind of DNA sample in her search.
It's not a "what."
It's "who."
I think she's looking for somebody.
So the virus outbreak was all just a way to ID someone.
Yeah, she has some DNA and she's looking to put a name to it.
- Who? Family member? Loved one? - Enemy.
I want to know the second you find out.
Whoever it is may need our protection.
Agent Keen.
Bad time?
Not at all. Come in.
Did anyone take the bait?
Yes. A merc, some muscle.
But he was reporting to whoever sent him,
and that's probably the person I'm looking for,
which is why I need your help.
Tell me. What can I do?
The guy who showed up...
Singleton intercepted his phone.
- A burner. - If you intercepted him,
you must know who he called.
I do. One number.
- Also a burner. - I'll geolocate him.
I know you're in the middle of a big case...
- Do it. - The CDC's confirming the antidote.
We'll track the DNA.
- Are you sure? - Of course.
It's imperative we find Tom's killer.
How... A quit claim?
But we were in contract.
As Old Man Quimby,
my fencing instructor used to say...
"If ifs and buts were candy and nuts,
oh, what a Christmas we'd have."
My God I loved the foil.
That woman agreed to sell to us.
Well, as it turns out
you weren't offering quite enough.
She accepted my proposal
over the most delicious buckwheat blini
and a tour of her surprisingly vast collection
of ceramic salt-and-pepper shakers.
But the funny thing is,
I have absolutely no use for the place.
If only there were something you could do
to help me think of a constructive way
to develop the property.
- Any good ideas? - No.
- Really? - Absolutely not.
Maybe a massage parlor.
The athletes would love it!
Oh, my God.
Fine. I'll admit him.
The Hepworth kid.
If you throw in the locker room.
"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."
Ah, Quimby.
The man was a walking aphorism.
We found out who Edwards was looking for...
Caleb James Cronin, retired Navy SEAL.
She was looking up his DNA.
That explains the extraordinary steps she's taken.
The ID of anyone in Special Ops is highly classified.
What it doesn't explain is why she cares.
Because Cronin killed her husband.
The opium.
He's the one who caught Edwards stealing it.
JAG ruled it was self-defense.
Apparently she'd like to render her own verdict.
If she knows who he is,
it won't take her long to find out where he is.
We need to find him first.
Lieutenant Caleb Cronin?
Agh. What the hell was that?
Invite me inside and I'll explain.
Red, I've been thinking about this all wrong.
You are the fancy fugitive the IRS can't touch.
But Heddie and I? Our names are all over the place.
This audit is gonna land us in jail,
where she definitely belongs.
But me, I need to feel the sun on my face
and the breeze on my neck, so here you go.
A dachshund, Husky, Chow,
Pug, beagle, two Siamese, a chinchilla,
and my appreciation for torching the place.
Smokey, as it turns out, that won't be necessary.
You promised me a sure thing, gives me Viagra,
and all I have to show for it is a four-hour erection.
Who knew an IRS agent would be so amenable?
Wait. You're... you're...
you're not burning down the place?
Did you hear what I said. we'll go to jail for this.
Brother Hershey, behold a miracle.
You got Charlie into Davenport.
I just... I can't thank you enough.
Of course you can. That's why I did it.
You know, there's nothing I've wanted more
than for my son to go to Davenport...
and, um...
if it were in my power to bury this audit,
I would.
But it is in your power.
You're the auditor.
Yes. I was when we came to our understanding,
but there's been a change.
I'm out, and, um, Larry Hotchkiss is in.
He'll be here tomorrow at 9:00
to examine your books.
I am so sorry.
So am I, Brother Hershey.
So am I.
It appears we're going to need that chinchilla after all.
Okay... come on...
All right, I'm geolocating now.
Singleton, can you talk?
You got a location?
Almost.
Okay, okay, okay...
All right, it looks like... there.
There. 447 Skidmore.
- Did you get that? 447... - Call the burner.
What? Why?
What good's that gonna do?
It'll tell me what member of the task force
killed your husband.
That address... 447 Skidmore.
That's your office.
Call the number.
Not until we get units there.
You need back...
Singleton?
Is there a problem?
I hope not.
Your girls are in Orlando, right?
You can open your mouth, but the thing is,
whatever happens to me,
I've got people, Norm.
A lot of people.
You do anything stupid,
and those girls of yours are gonna pay.
Let's go for a ride.
That cough is your body
trying to fight the genetic material
I've introduced into your bloodstream.
It'll be followed by a migraine, double vision.
Your brain is swelling, Lieutenant.
And it will continue to swell
until your skull can't accommodate its size.
Look, whatever this is...
There is a cure, however,
and I have it.
But for that, I'm gonna need something in return.
Who are you?
Dennis Edwards, Navy SEAL.
Manbij, Syria.
You remember him?
He was my husband.
It wasn't my fault, what happened.
Your husband's death, it wa...
It was an accident.
You convinced JAG
that he stole a truckload of opium.
But I know differently.
I know, because he delayed shipping out
to find out who'd done it.
No. That's...
That is not right. Whatever he told you...
When my husband's effects were returned,
there was blood on his uniform.
I tested it.
I found two sets of DNA.
His and the Navy SEAL who killed him.
You.
I know you stole the opium.
I know you blamed it on my husband,
then murdered him to cover your tracks.
What I don't know is who else was involved.
You've heard about the outbreak.
That was me.
I've infected you with an accelerated variant.
You'll be dead in three hours unless you get the antidote.
So, Lieutenant...
who helped you kill my husband?
Oh, God.
Earl, I've been thinking,
who am I to stand between you and your calling?
You can make disappear in one hour
what it took 100 men a year to create.
I take it the IRS wasn't so amenable after all.
There may have been a slight... hiccup.
Men plan. God laughs.
The audit begins tomorrow, 9:00 a.m.
Only there is no God.
It's just all a big chemical reaction.
Can you do it by then?
I need someone who sees the fire in my eyes
and wants to play with it.
Is that a yes or a no?
Or is a haiku sometimes just a haiku?
I have five smoke detectors, 16 sprinkler heads,
and a backflow preventer to install.
Well, then...
The plan's in my head.
The supplies are in the van.
Every shred of evidence
will be reduced to ashes by dawn.
I do see the fire in your eyes.
And it's terrifying.
FBI!
FBI! Down! Move!
FBI!
Ressler.
You think she infected him?
Or tried.
Obviously there was some kind of struggle.
Well, he gets the upper hand.
He's bigger, a trained SEAL.
And take her where? She came here to kill him to get her revenge.
Agents.
This is Jill Conway.
Neighbor from across the street.
I saw them. He had a gun.
All right, get her full statement.
Thank you.
Aram, we may have a hostage situation.
I need you to run a full profile on Cronin...
credit cards, vehicle registration, the works.
Okay. I'm on it.
You need to let me drive.
Please. I can help.
Stop. Just...
How much further?
Left at the light.
Onto Shore Boulevard.
I never wanted to kill you.
I just wanted to clear my husband's name.
Okay, guys, a traffic cam clocked Cronin's vehicle
three minutes ago, heading westbound on 495.
I've got an NYPD unit tailing them now.
They're headed towards Astoria.
That's where Edwards lives. They're headed to her house.
Aram, have NYPD set a perimeter...
have them run him onto a service road at Hell Gate Bridge.
Call Dr. Moshay at the CDC.
Tell her that we have a likely infection.
We need response units on site.
What do we got?
He's symptomatic, likely infected,
which means she is, too.
I've asked law enforcement to keep them at bay
until you arrive...
I need you to tell me it's safe to send my people in
- to treat them. - So you can treat them?
Yes.
Atlanta cleared the antidote.
And we have doses on site ready to go.
What about him? Is he armed?
We think so.
Then it's not safe to treat them.
Where are you going?
Ressler.
All right, hold on. Not so fast.
I need medicine.
She infected me with some kind of...
some virus.
- Where's the weapon? - Did you hear me?
This woman... she's the reason...
she's infected half the city!
Look, I asked you a question...
Where's the weapon?
I only wanted to clear my husband's name,
to prove his innocence.
I didn't want anybody to get hurt.
His innocence?
Hey, hold up.
What does she mean, his "innocence"?
Are you insane?
Officers, if this man takes another step forward
you have permission to shoot.
He doesn't have much time.
How about we make a little trade?
Your life for the truth about Dennis Edwards.
- I told the truth. - Look, unless you want
to leave here in a hazmat bag,
you're gonna tell me what really happened
to this woman's husband in Raqqa.
Please... I'm begging you...
He's gonna die.
Yeah, I guess so.
Okay, stop!
Just... stop.
The opium...
We took it.
Edwards figured it out.
He was gonna turn us in.
I want names.
Oz Stone, Frank McGraw.
Who pulled the trigger?
I did, okay?
Are you happy?
I shot him.
Bring 'em in.
When it's safe, arrest 'em both.
Hey. Singleton, it's me again.
Uh, you don't seem to be home,
and you don't answer your calls, so...
I'm getting a little worried.
Call me back when you get this.
Singleton?
He's not at home?
No.
He's not answering his cell either.
That's what I was afraid of.
Why do you say that?
It may be nothing.
I'm gonna give you an address.
- Where the hell you been? - Hm?
The auditor's in the bathroom washing up for the kill.
I couldn't bring myself to burn it down.
- I like it here. - Oh, well, good for you.
Why don't you stay here and pat the pets?
- We'll be in jail with the animals. - I don't think so.
I... I should've known sooner or later,
you'd throw Heddie and me under the bus.
Smokey, shut your mouth and look and learn.
Ah, Mr. Dekker, it's your lucky day.
Why is that?
Our field office caught fire last night.
Yeah, a wire shorted in the basement.
It sparked a bag of de-icing chemicals
someone left down there.
We store, uh, the materials we prepare for audits
in the basement.
As a result,
yours has been indefinitely postponed.
That is a bit of luck.
We'll be in touch.
I assume that you assume
the fire was the work of an arsonist.
We did.
But we found no evidence of it.
All we do know is that the fire started
inside the smoke alarm.
Hah! How ironic.
Atten! Hut!
Ready! Aim! Fire!
Ready! Aim!
Fire!
Mr. Fagen.
I was staring at those trees,
thinking how I wanted to burn them.
I realize that I've stoked the flame, so to speak,
which is why I brought you this.
"Embrace the Struggle"?
Zig Ziglar at his most persuasive.
Are you familiar with his work?
He's a motivational speaker.
Who motivated me to quit smoking
and shoot from the neck down.
You think he can motivate me not to burn those trees.
A retainer.
For services not yet rendered.
Read the book,
think positive, control your urges,
and I'll put your gift to good use.
Stabbed multiple times.
Wallet gone.
They're saying it was a robbery.
I want witness statements, CCTV footage,
and a forensic report on my desk an hour ago.
Nobody sleeps until we find the son of a bitch who did this.
Elizabeth...
Aah! Aah!
What is it?
That's him.
The bald man... Damascus.
That's the man who killed Tom.