On the ground! Now! Right now!
Three-minute drill!
You, slick. He said on the ground!
Charles Maker!
I need Mr. Charles Maker to stand up!
- Charles Maker?! - Okay. Stop. Please.
What do I want, Charles Maker?
2 minutes, 30 seconds!
Are you out of your mind?
Hey! You! I'm talking to you! I said on the ground!
This is no way to rob a bank. This is... I...
Honestly, I don't know what the hell this is.
Are you trying to get yourself killed?
It's a disgrace. That's what it is.
You have a young mother on the ground.
Her child is terrified. What the hell's wrong with you?!
If you're not face-down on the ground
- in three seconds... - Raymond Reddington?
What?
That's Raymond Reddington.
Unh-unh-unh. Don't you bring that gun back up.
Joe, put your gun down.
Two minutes!
He said put the gun down!
Joe. Come on.
Clearly, this isn't going to work out according to plan.
What are you doing here?!
I'm on my sixth and final scout to rob the place.
This Tuesday, in fact.
That's obviously been moved up.
Charlie, would you please escort Lucinda to her desk
where she keeps the master key to the safe-deposit room?
I need box 604 post-haste.
Don't worry about him, Charlie. Just get the box.
There we go.
What's in box 604?
Joe, you seem like a guy who gets distracted.
If I were you, I'd forget about the box
and worry about the bank's new metal-detection system.
Because it was specifically designed to silently detect
the larger kinds of weaponry
that marauders such as yourselves
tend to be enamored with.
Truth is, your cannons tripped the security system
the moment you entered the building,
which means you don't have
the precious seconds you thought you had.
60 seconds!
Not quite.
Guys, what are you doing?!
Going to jail, evidently.
You know, enough is enough.
Everyone up. This is just unpleasant all around.
- Joe, talk to me. - We got to go! Right now!
Except you can't
because the bank is surrounded by police.
Now, I can get you out of here...
for 50% of the cash that you have on that cart.
You can get us out?
- Thank you, Charlie. - You're welcome.
55 percent.
Joe, my number's only going up until you say yes...
or you get yourself arrested.
Okay. Yeah, yeah, yes. Yes. Yes. Let's go.
Eli. About the truck for Tuesday.
Yeah, uh, there's been a change of plan.
We need it now. No, no, like right now.
Same place. That's right.
Now.
Son of a bitch.
Liquor built that bank.
Boss Varney ran the bank and half a dozen bars in the city.
During Prohibition,
Varney's son operated the bars as speakeasies.
They made a fortune off of bootleggers,
moonshiners, and wine pirates.
Laundered all the profits through the bank.
The tunnel provided safe passage for all the cash
and a warm way to walk to lunch during the winter months.
You made good time, Eli.
Hop in, boys and girls. We're going for a ride.
They're shooting at the police. Honest to God, these guys.
I said the joker is a wanted man
Ohh! No!
- Oh! - Oh, no, please.
I come bearing gifts.
That's not...
Van Gogh's "Poppy Flowers."
Everything about it just...
breaks my heart.
But wasn't that stolen from...?
Yes. Twice, actually.
From Cairo's Mohamed Mahmoud Khalil Museum.
Once in 1977 and then again in 2010.
Terribly embarrassing.
It's exchanged hands a couple of times over the years,
but it came to my attention that the current owner
was holding it here at your bank.
Not to worry. I'm sure you had no idea.
But I do think it's time for the flowers to go back home again.
You want me to return it?
Yes, to the museum.
But you just stole it yesterday.
Well, I guess third time's a charm.
But now it's your obligation
to see that it's returned to its rightful owner.
My God, I hope they can manage
to hold onto it this time around.
Please don't mention my name.
I'd prefer it to be an anonymous donation.
But... why?
Why rob us?
Ha! That was sort of a gift to myself.
I'm turning 60 this year.
I wanted to see if I've still got it.
Turns out I do.
I have a feeling it's gonna be a very good year.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Raymond Reddington is a fraud.
An imposter who took our father's place
over 30 years ago.
The FBI can trace this Reddington forward from '95.
And I know for a fact that our father died five years before that.
The night of the fire.
Our father, the real Raymond Reddington,
cheated on your mother with mine...
a Russian agent named Katarina Rostova.
Our fake father's a criminal, and our real one's a snake.
He took me from her in Russia.
She followed him to America where we were staying.
They got into a fight...
a fire started...
I got out, he didn't.
Wait. But how can you be so sure? You were 4.
The only person who knew Reddington was dead
was in that house that night,
so the person pretending to be him
was either there that night,
or got the idea to take this place from someone who was,
which is why I got this side storage.
This contains everything I collected over the years
is connected to the fire.
Okay.
You can still walk away.
And do what? Pretend this never happened.
Go back to be a waitress.
Making minimum wage serving tuna melts and warm beer?
You know, I... I get it. It's dangerous.
If he finds out, he...
Not if. When.
But here's the thing. I have no life.
Or I had no life.
And now...
Hey. Yeah.
Yeah, of course.
I'll be right there.
How do you do that?
Pretend like you're really his daughter.
I've spent the last five years
learning to act at the feet of the master.
It's my turn to outperform him.
Payback's a bitch.
Especially when there's two of 'em.
You said this would be good for my health, Dembe,
and you were absolutely right.
I feel like a different person.
Don't you look cute.
Hmm!
I've turned over a new leaf.
Spinach. Steamed.
No butter, no oil, no salt.
And very, very little taste.
Spinach. Tai Chi.
Who are you and what have you done with Raymond Reddington?
What do you know about a man named Hans Koehler?
Nothing. Should I?
He's the plastic surgeon of choice
for the criminal underworld.
A wizard at facial reconstruction.
He's hidden some of the very worst of the worst
behind a larger nose, a pointier chin, higher cheekbones.
You want me to find the doctor who helps
change criminals' identities?
Find the doctor, find the criminals.
Why him? Why now?
Opportunity.
Dr. Koehler's been sighted,
which is as rare as sighting the pygmy three-toed sloth.
Only 79 of the dear creatures are left.
Okay. I'll bite. Sighted where?
An elusive Russian arms dealer,
a very successful jewel thief thought to be dead,
a wanted forger who has dodged Interpol for nearly a decade.
Three examples of criminals
we thought were dead or had gone dark...
but who Reddington believes are still alive and well
and continuing to commit crimes under new identities,
courtesy of Dr. Hans Koehler.
So we're still doing his bidding.
- I'm sorry, Agent Ressler? - Reddington.
He shot an unarmed man in FBI custody
just so that Keen couldn't identify that skeleton
that he's been lugging around like his life depended on it.
We've made a deal with the devil. It comes at a price.
As for Reddington, when he gives us a case like this,
we have an obligation to take it.
Agent Keen, about the doctor...
Koehler attended medical school at Heidelberg University.
Residency in reconstructive surgery at Johns Hopkins.
He operates a mobile medical team
that travels the globe changing the faces of the criminal elite.
I'm sorry. Changing their faces?
He is considered a pioneer in the application
of 3-D computer imaging and modeling technology.
Don't screw this up.
Dear sir, when I'm finished,
your own mother won't know you.
According to Reddington, he and his team were in D.C.
operating out of a bakery in Petworth
that was undergoing renovation.
Then that's where we start. Dig in.
Let's see if we can bring this doctor out of the shadows.
Keen.
A moment?
About what Agent Ressler said. I share his sentiments.
No matter how fruitful our arrangement
with Reddington has been,
when I see the price you continue to pay,
I can't honestly say it's been worth it.
And I want you to know,
if you don't want to keep paying it,
I'll shut the Task Force down.
You said it yourself, sir.
If that doctor is here, we have to take this case.
There will always be a case, Elizabeth.
And no matter how important they seem,
none is as important as you protecting yourself.
Will you think about it? Of course.
Sir.
After all these years, I think you can call me Harold.
Harold.
Thank you, sir.
All right. Up and to the right.
Down and to the left.
Hmm.
So?
You are the picture of health.
Weeks ago, your body temperature was 66 degrees.
Your pupils were dilated and unreactive to light.
In short, you were gone.
Well, I had remarkable doctors
and a lot of people praying for me.
Well, their prayers were answered.
Your CT scan is clear.
Your physical and neurological exams were normal.
Am I cleared for duty?
You are. Unless there's something you've noticed.
Like what?
Hmm, abnormality in speech or memory?
Have you been forgetful, unable to recall certain words?
Nothing? Okay.
Welcome back.
I have a grand opening tomorrow.
You the ones in charge?!
Agents Ressler and Keen, FBI. You must be the owner.
Yeah. You're damn right I'm the owner.
My attorney's on her way now.
This is a joke.
An absolute abuse of police power.
Okay, ma'am, slow down.
What? D-Don't "ma'am" me. I'm not that old.
I'm sure as hell not running some kind of
mob-doctor surgery center out of my kitchen.
Well, our intel says otherwise.
We've been closed down for plumbing problems.
The grand re-opening is tomorrow.
I've got 1,200 cupcakes to make, bake, and frost,
and you're acting like it's the county morgue!
We're finished here. We've gone through it twice.
There's no trace evidence.
That can't be.
Yeah? He just said it was, handsome.
So can I have my business back?
No. I want you and your team to tear the place apart...
every drain trap, sewage line, air filter.
Swab every inch.
I'm afraid those, uh, cupcakes are gonna have to wait. Ma'am.
This last procedure,
it's just what we were hoping for.
Would you care to see?
Beautiful.
- The bakery. We have a lead. - On Koehler?
No, on one of his former patients. Basil Vladakis.
Basil Vladakis. Dear Lord.
I haven't heard his name in ages.
Evidence Response found trace amounts of blood in the drain line.
We ran the DNA, and it matches Vladakis.
Who could lead us to Dr. Koehler.
If only we knew what he looks like now.
Apparently he got himself a new face.
Changing a man's face is one thing.
Changing his predilections? Quite another.
His predilections?
Basil Vladakis was a vicious and wanton gunrunner
whose love of money was only rivaled
by his love for losing it at the track.
So you know this guy.
I know he was a regular punter at Mardale.
Perhaps Dembe and I should be off to the races
to see if we can't scare up The Mad Greek.
I certainly wasn't the only one he stiffed before skipping town,
but I'd still like my money back.
And if he knows anything about Dr. Koehler's whereabouts,
well, then, as they say, "two birds."
Dembe, this could be fun.
We haven't been to a race since Smarty Jones
cost us a bundle at Belmont.
Perhaps Dame Fortune is ready to smile on us after all.
Hey. Keep the change!
I just hit the across-the-board on Salsa Marimba!
Is the across-the-board really the wisest bet?
As I understand it,
they're expensive and have far less profit potential.
Is that true?
I wouldn't know. I'm a novice.
Today must be my lucky day.
It's funny.
You look like an old pro with a new face.
The kind who likes taking other people's money.
I once knew a Greek arms dealer who took my money.
Do you know how many times I've stood
in this lousy sports bar looking for you?
Clever to have your face reorganized.
Looks good. Cute nose.
Okay. Look, Mr. Reddington.
I'm sorry. I'll get you your money.
But I can't be seen here. Not with you.
- If anyone sees us, it would... - Blow your cover?
That's about to happen very quickly.
Can you imagine?
After all that nipping and tucking,
the sucking and plucking.
All that goes into changing a man's face,
creating a new identity, a new life,
then be outed by some old pal at the same old racetrack?
What a colossal waste of money and time.
- I'll get you your money! - Of course you will.
But I'll need a little something else to sweeten the pot,
make up for lost interest.
What? What do you want?
I want you to put me in touch
with the friend who fixed your face.
We don't speak. That's not how it works.
But you know how to reach him.
All I've got is a number. For a nurse.
A number to call only in case of medical emergency.
Then start dialing, because if you don't,
you're gonna be naked and penniless
in this lousy sports bar at Mardale.
Hey. I went through your box,
and I think I may have found something.
I think Reddington knows.
- What? How? - I don't know.
And I'm not sure he does. But this case he gave us...
he's got us hunting down a plastic surgeon
who performs facial reconstructions on criminals.
You think Reddington wants you to find the doctor
that changed his identity?
Why would he want that?
I have no idea.
But it can't be a coincidence, right?
And if this is Reddington's doctor,
he might have the answer we're looking for.
So we've got to find him before Reddington does.
So... So, this is what I found.
Yeah. I was taken to a motel in Dover the night of the fire.
But I went there. It's a dead end.
The motel maybe. Or Dover. But not Delaware.
My parents used to take me there every summer.
To a house they'd rent an hour outside Dover
- in Rehoboth Beach. - So?
So maybe our father, the real Raymond Reddington,
took you there.
It was the dead of winter.
Rehoboth Beach is a summer resort.
It's the perfect place to hide.
I'll run a check.
See if there was a fire in Rehoboth Beach that night.
I already did.
_
You know what this means?
Hell yeah. Road trip.
...racing for the challenge,
but here comes Moon Room on the outside!
Neck-and-neck with Aura Field.
It's down to the wire with Moon Room and Aura Field.
Moon Room and Aura Field!
And at the wire, it's Moon Room!
Hey!
I got your page. Is everything okay?
Mr. Hunt?
Ooh. Oh, my God. You were right!
Who would've thought the Daily Double
- would be a smart bet? - Yes!
I knew it was a smart bet.
Oh, my God.
You want another Orange Whip?
Yes, absolutely.
Orange Whip? Orange Whip?
Three Orange Whips.
I'm sorry. Please, have a seat.
Mr. Hunt. What's going on here?
I asked Mr. Hunt to page you, not for himself,
but because I'm one of Dr. Koehler's
former patients, and I need to get in touch
with the good doctor. My name is...
- I know who you are. - Ah!
Then you know I'm serious
when I say it's a matter of some urgency.
Dr. Koehler's traveling. He's in France on holiday.
Until when?
He didn't say. It was an impromptu trip.
He texted from Avignon,
said he was having the time of his life.
Perhaps I could give him a message?
May I ask you something?
All the work that was done on poor Vladakis...
I mean, Mr. Hunt...
and yet, still, these earlobes.
It's like the grandkids have been hanging
and swinging on them.
Is there really nothing one can do to... I don't know...
shrink them up even just a little bit?
You said the doctor texted you.
Yes.
Perhaps I could borrow your phone.
Aram, it's me. I'm gonna send you a cellphone,
one I need you to examine as soon as possible.
Yes, it's about Dr. Koehler.
What the hell is really going on with Dr. Koehler?
He wouldn't simply pack up and go "on holiday" to France.
He hates the French.
He's in trouble, Raymond.
Yeah. Trouble. Never a truer word.
Dr. Koehler,
rest assured that our work here is nearly finished.
The ocean, the air. It all smells the same.
- The house we rented was right... - There.
20 steps to the sand.
You remember.
This is where it happened.
The fire.
This is where I killed our father.
So that's why you were so sure about when he died.
Because you shot him.
They were fighting. My father and my mother.
Screaming at each other. And others I think.
He was hurting her.
I saw the gun and...
I just wanted to make it stop.
I'm so sorry.
You were 4.
You have nothing to be sorry about.
I know you have fond memories of this place,
but I'm glad it's gone.
Wait. If you killed our father,
how come you didn't know Reddington was an imposter?
My memories of that night.
He had them removed.
He... He removed your memories.
He told me he didn't want me to live with
the weight of knowing I killed my father.
Who does that?
- He said he did it to protect me... - Who can do that?
...when what he was doing was protecting himself
so that I would never question who he really was.
So, one of you called claiming to be Red Reddington's kid?!
Hi. Yeah. Are you Martin Donnelly?
Hi. I'm Jennifer. This is my sister, Elizabeth.
Special Agent Elizabeth Keen.
We heard you were the sheriff here
the night that house burned down.
- Mm-hmm. Yeah. - We were hoping you had
a record of the people who were there that night.
Why's that?
Did you know our father?
I thought I did. In my mind he was a fine man.
The night of the fire was the last time either of us has seen him.
You expect me to believe you don't know where he is, your own father?!
We haven't seen him in over 30 years.
He became a fugitive when we were kids. We barely knew him.
But we do know this...
before the night of the fire, he was a fine man.
And then after, he changed.
We think the people who were there that night know why.
Will you help us find them?
I would if I could. But whoever was there that night
was long gone by the time we showed up.
Are local hospitals open year-round?
A reduced staff, but, yeah.
So if someone got burned that night,
there might be a patient record.
We're gonna need a list of every hospital
- in a 20-mile radius. - Sure.
Keen.
All right. I am not saying I'm amazing.
But sometimes I am distinctly above average.
- You found Dr. Koehler? - The good doctor texted an employee
saying that he was in France.
- Have you alerted Interpol? - And why would I do that?
- You said he was in France. - I said that's what he said.
But when I pulled the records from the cell carrier...
and this is the distinctly above-average part...
I found that his text wasn't sent from France.
It was sent from right here in D.C.
- You have a location? - Sending it to you right now.
Mr. Cooper's working on getting a warrant.
- How did you know he texted? - I didn't. Mr. Reddington did.
He sent me the employee's cell.
Which, um, I guess, if you want to be technical about it,
means he's the amazing one.
Did you give him the location?
Aram, please tell me
you didn't tell Reddington how to find Dr. Koehler.
That's it there? The brick one?
Yes. What about the FBI?
The FBI served their purpose in finding him.
Let's go find out
how badly Dr. Koehler's been compromised.
That's everything. You ready?
Please. Let us go.
Let them go.
We've done everything you asked!
The conditions under which
I have forced you to live and work...
for the past few months
are unfortunate
and difficult for everyone.
But it's over now. So cheer up.
Unchain them.
Good to see you, Samar.
It's good to be back.
So, what can you tell us about the building, who's inside?
So we're... free to go?
Of course. Your work is done.
Thank you.
Dr. Koehler.
Before you go...
there is one more thing.
What's that?
- I got north entrance. - I'll take this side.
I'm so sorry.
However, the point of changing my face
is that nobody knows who I am.
And that includes you.
- You okay? - Yes.
Thank you.
Congrats.
- On what? - You and Aram.
I'm very happy for you.
Thank you.
Where is it?
Picasso.
Raymond, we have to leave is if before the cops show.
I thought we were past this.
What's that?
Alternate agendas.
You giving us cases without telling us why.
Using us to catch the people you can't.
He had information that's important to me.
And I thought you just wanted us to catch
the pygmy three-toed sloth.
Our professional relationship is symbiotic.
I help you, you help me.
And our personal relationship?
I don't have an alternate agenda.
I have secrets. Like the skeleton.
I thought you'd come to terms with that.
I have.
Which is why I'm not upset at finding you here.
It's still hard.
You're my father. I want us to have an honest relationship.
One has nothing to do with the other.
Being honest means one doesn't lie,
deceive, or cheat.
Where you are concerned, I don't.
How can you say that when you keep things from me?
Dembe keeps things from me.
That's different.
So one can keep certain things secret
and be in an honest relationship?
I saw Dr. Koehler whisper something to you before he died.
What did he tell you?
The last thing I want is to push you away.
So if we need a little truth and reconciliation
to prevent that, well, what the hell?
Just don't get greedy.
You're serious?
You want to know my secrets, why I'm here,
what the good doctor told me?
- Yes, I do. - Then I'll tell you.
As soon as you tell me.
Tell you what?
The secrets you keep from me.
I never said I kept any.
Studies show that at any given moment
the average person is keeping 13 secrets.
So come on. I actually think this could be quite fun.
I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
This isn't a game.
It could be.
If the secrets you keep
are as loving as the ones Dembe keeps.
Well. That is interesting.
The ID on the dead guy turned up as fake,
but we sent the prints to Interpol and we got a hit.
Tell me.
Not until you tell us why you gave us this case,
because it obviously wasn't so we could arrest Dr. Koehler
and expose his clients.
Hans Koehler was a friend of mine.
I suspected he was being held against his will.
I wanted to save his life.
Sadly, I failed.
You cared about him?
You expect us to believe that's all that's going on here?
All? No.
Enough? Certainly.
The guard. Who was he?
A known associate of Bastien Moreau.
The Corsican.
Until four months ago, no one knew who The Corsican was.
Then he shows up on a camera in Gdansk and is ID'd as Moreau.
Which explains his sudden urge to pay a visit on Dr. Makeover.
One of the world's deadliest assassins
is now one of the world's most anonymous men.
Which means he can act with impunity.
Whatever he is up to...
I fear Dr. Koehler is only the beginning.
The Feds have Gabin's body. They'll connect him to you.
To who I was.
Not to who I am.
The assignment remains. This changes nothing.
We travel as planned.
Well, at least...
I travel as planned.
All right. The Corsican is a gun for hire.
But not by just anyone.
He has a very particular clientele.
The Tamil Tigers. The Kosovo Liberation Army.
He's a nationalist who works on behalf
of groups fighting against globalism.
His targets have included a UNESCO office in Geneva,
a conference center in Davos,
and the European Union headquarters in The Hague,
where last year a bomb was defused moments before
the General Assembly's opening session.
Before now, everything has been overseas.
Well, his next target could be here
or maybe he's already left the country.
Can't lock down the airports.
We have no idea who we're looking for.
The Corsican, as bad as he may be,
is only one name on Dr. Koehler's client list.
Shouldn't we be focused on finding the list?
We may not know what this guy looks like, but thanks to Samar
shooting out his taillight, we were able to trace his car.
First day back, and you're already showing us up.
It was found in a remote lot at Reagan International.
There were two bodies identified at the scene
matching the men you saw driving away in The Corsican's car.
Why would he kill his own people?
Same reason he killed Koehler and his team...
they knew what he looked like.
They were the only remaining ones who did.
Aram, pull every feed from that lot you can find.
If you get a hit, circulate it to TSA.
We'll find that list,
but right now we've got an emergency on our hands.
Get to Reagan, coordinate with Airport Authority Police,
tell them we've got a situation.
- All right, sir. - Thanks.
Wait there, ma'am.
- Two minutes out. - Moreau, Bastien.
I need you to notify security he's on site and...
Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying.
No, I do not have a positive ID,
but you need to put the facility on lockdown
and hold all passengers.
Code three, all responders.
White male. Mid-50s. May be armed.
Sir, I'm terribly sorry.
Can we please stop at the men's room before getting to my gate?
Of course, sir. Not a problem.
Thank you.
We ask for your assistance
in reporting any unattended bags.
Lock it down. All points of exit.
Drop-off, pick-up, parking garages, everywhere.
Agent Navabi, FBI. I need you take me to your C.O.
I need every male passenger searched, ID'd,
and taken to a secure area.
- Where are your security feeds? - Over here.
Sir! We need you right away. We got something.
All units, suspect is impersonating
an airport employee in a maroon blazer.
Attention, all units.
...white male suspect...
Yes?
Mrs. Koehler,
I'm terribly sorry for your loss.
How did...
Who are you?
A friend of your husband's. My name is Raymond.
I'm here for the Picasso.
Well. This is unexpected.
Why would Hans want you to take him?
He loved Picasso.
How much do you know about your husband's line of work?
He was a great surgeon.
He was away for months at a time, wasn't he?
He had clients all over the world.
He did.
Many of those clients were...
criminals.
Some of them terrible men and terrible women.
- That's not so. - It is.
I should know. I'm one of them.
What is that?
Your husband's client list.
- That's what you came for. - Yes.
And to give you this.
It's a numbered bank account with $5 million in it...
and also the name of a man who's standing by
to create your false identification.
I don't understand.
Other clients will come looking for this list.
I don't know how many or when.
Just that they will.
And you do not want to be here when they do.
Why are you doing this?
As I said, Hans was a friend of mine.
I wouldn't be the person I am if it weren't for him.
I recommend Cairo.
Beautiful, historic.
And thanks to a combination
of the Muslim Brotherhood and international Islamophobia,
completely abandoned by Western tourists.
You and Picasso will have the pyramids to yourselves.
So let me get this straight. We lost Moreau.
He slipped security using the identity of an airline rep.
Security feeds show him stealing a car
from an employee parking lot.
We have word out on the vehicle now.
- Any hits? - Not yet.
So he's gone, and Koehler is dead,
and the names of his clients died with him.
All except Moreau. Who's God knows where
and about to do God knows what.
Reddington never wanted us to catch Koehler.
Any chance he told you what it was?
No. He didn't.
Did you think about what I said...
about the price and whether you're willing to pay it?
I did.
And have you made a decision?
The Raymond Reddington we know can't be trusted.
But there was another Reddington.
Another Reddington?
It's hard to explain,
but I want to know how the Reddington we could trust
turned into the one we can't.
I have to know.
Whatever the price.
Ah.
I meant what I said before
about our relationship being symbiotic.
I help you, you help me.
We help each other.
What's this?
An insurance policy.
Dr. Koehler was a not only a gifted surgeon,
but also a man smart enough to know that his life
was threatened by the very men and women
who paid for his services.
For that reason, he kept a dossier...
a list of every face he changed.
Moreau knew about this.
Which is why he abducted Dr. Koehler and his team
and forced them to operate at gunpoint.
Which means his new identity won't be on this drive.
No.
But the names of countless others are...
men and women who abandoned their lives to hide.
Now you can find them.
Where to find this... that's what Dr. Koehler
whispered to you before he died.
I told you mine. Now you tell me yours.
I would.
But you haven't really told me yours yet, have you?
Not all of it.
This isn't the complete list, is it?
No, it's not.
One file has been deleted.
Yours.
I prefer to keep my nips and tucks to myself.
Forgive an old man his vanity.
For now, but...
someday I want to see the before and after pictures.
Not a pretty sight.
I'm sure you were always handsome.
Was I?
I can't remember.
Neither can I.
But I don't have to.
I know that...
before everything changed...
...my father was...
...kind and decent...
and beautiful.
Inside and out.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com