My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy until...
We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted.
When you're burned, you've got nothing --
no cash, no credit, no job history.
You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.
- Where am I? - Miami.
You do whatever work comes your way.
You rely on anyone who's still talking to you.
A trigger-happy ex-girlfriend...
Should we shoot them?
...An old friend who used to inform on you to the FBI...
You know spies -- a bunch of bitchy little girls.
...Family, too... Hey, is that your mom again?
...If you're desperate. Someone needs your help, Michael.
Bottom line -- as long as you're burned,
Mysterious trips around the world with Max.
I mean, he's, what, your keeper or whatever?
He's my agency contact.
You've been putting up some W's lately.
The right people are starting to take notice.
Michael Westen, soon-to-be reinstated agent of the CIA.
How does that sound?
That sounds great, Max. Thanks for everything.
Max!
Stay with me. Stay with me, Max.
Max.
Fi, someone shot Max, the police are on the way,
and I think I'm holding the murder weapon.
I covered my tracks...
...So I covered the tracks of the killer.
Michael, we have to do something about that gun.
And we need to get an alibi for you, like, right now.
Let's go to work.
As a spy,
you're in the information business --
stealing it, protecting it,
and, if you have to, destroying it.
Some secrets are so dangerous
that you can't allow them to continue to exist.
A murder weapon that implicates you
in a crime you didn't commit, for example,
is a secret best kept
with 4,000 degrees of burning thermite.
Hey. Got here as soon as I could.
How'd it go? Okay.
I put together some credit-card receipts
putting everyone in Key West yesterday on a little vacation.
Key West? Hey.
You want an alibi on such short notice, you don't get to be picky.
You guys are melting down a gun.
I don't have much choice.
Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.
They managed to put a murder weapon in Michael's hands and get away clean.
I just want to put this out there. If we go to the cops now --
No. It's not gonna fly. I talked to the cops.
The CIA has taken over the scene.
They got a case officer down here now.
And she wants me in for a chat.
Oh. Great. Perfect.
And you have no idea who killed Max?
None. Could be an enemy of Max's
who wants a burned spy for a fall guy
or an enemy of mine looking to keep me out of the game.
What about the people who burned you?
You said you had doubts about that investigation.
Anything's possible, but I'm not gonna be able to find out
if I'm in jail for first-degree murder.
- We have to get rid of the gun. - Are you sure about this?
Once you start a cover-up, there's no going back.
It's already started. I trashed the key logs
at the murder scene and wiped the place down.
The only thing that's gonna save me
is finding the real killer.
This train's rolling, brother.
The only question is whether you get on board.
Hell yeah. I'm on board. Yeah.
You must be Michael Westen.
I'm Agent Pearce. Thanks for coming.
No place I'd rather be.
Max was...
A friend? I know.
I'd, uh, offer my condolences,
but I'm much better at catching bad guys than shedding tears.
We'll find whoever did this.
What can I do?
Let me walk you through the scene.
You be the killer.
We found two bullets out in the hallway,
so if you're the killer, you fire on Max out there, miss,
then chase him in here.
Blood spatter says Max was...
Where I'm standing.
You bust in, put two shots in his back.
He bleeds out here.
Now Max is dead. What do you do?
Run to the exit.
I think you head for the key log.
So, you rip the hard drive out of the wall.
Now there's no record of your entry.
But how do you get out clean?
Elevator.
No trace. Try again.
I hope you're not asking me to jump.
Oh, you're the killer in this little exercise.
Is that how you escaped?
Not unless I could fly.
We found rope fibers, and I got friction marks right here.
The killer rappelled down. Probably had help.
How are your climbing skills?
Not bad. Why?
Am I a suspect?
To be honest,
when I heard a burned spy was mixed up with Max,
my first instinct was to fit you for a head bag.
I appreciate your restraint.
Well, you did show up today.
And as your new agency contact,
a head bag wouldn't have started us off on the right foot.
You're Max's replacement?
We worked on some operations together.
I have some investigations experience.
I asked for this assignment.
Max was one of the good guys.
I want to find out who did this just as much as you do.
I'd love to have you on the team.
You should know this about me, though --
I've got a pit bull at home,
and I learned how to run an investigation from her.
She sinks her teeth in, she doesn't let go.
Ever.
She sounds like a nice dog.
She can be.
But she is a very, very determined bitch
when she wants something.
I need to know I can count on you.
I'm your man.
I was hoping you'd say that, Michael.
Burn Notice 5x05 Square One Original Air Date on July 21, 2011
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
I don't get it. You're joining the CIA manhunt?
Did you forget
that search could end up at your doorstep, Michael?
If I'm one of the hunters, maybe I can avoid that.
Plus, looking over Pearce's shoulder
gives me a bird's-eye view of the entire investigation.
We should be working our own angle
to find out who killed Max.
Pearce is already checking the cellphone activity
from the day of Max's murder.
Why can't I just cheat off her notes?
- You think the killer made a call? - Maybe.
I've never seen the police respond that fast.
At least I can make sure
that they don't track the phone call I made to you.
So, check the phone records.
But if Pearce starts poking around,
don't forget there are no conjugal visits in CIA jail.
Is that who you're supposed to be meeting here?
- Yeah. - Bad time for a client. Who is he?
He was with the Special Forces in Afghanistan.
My C.O. tracked me down, asked for a favor.
And you're --
Not telling the captain who pulled me out of a burning jeep
that "I don't really have the time right now."
Michael. Lieutenant Ethan Reed.
Mrs. Westen.
Why don't you grab a seat, Lieutenant?
So, what can I do for you?
Captain Novak didn't tell me, really, what this was about
other than we have a lot in common.
Well, the CIA recruiters on base were hounding me pretty bad
until I made it clear I wasn't interested.
Or maybe it's that I beat your sharpshooting record
at Camp Rhino --
94% from 600 meters.
Ninety --
so, you're here to pick up the trophy?
No, no. I, um...
Is there somewhere we can talk that's more private?
Let's take a walk.
So, I got back from my tour in Afghanistan
a couple of months ago, and I found out
that my sister was dating this guy, Brandon,
a-and I knew he was a scumbag, but he seemed harmless.
What happened?
He, uh, he nearly beat her to death.
He put her in intensive care.
I'm sorry, Ethan. Have the cops done anything?
They'd arrest him if he fell in their lap,
but they're not looking for him very hard.
I thought you could help me track him down
using some of your resources.
Right up my alley. Fi.
You end up finding Brandon. What next?
After what he did to Heather...
I think Ethan's already picked flowers for Brandon's funeral.
You're not thinking this through. She's your sister.
It won't take long for the cops to figure out
you're the number-one suspect.
So, that's it? You're saying you're not gonna help?
No. If you want my help,
Brandon goes to jail, not to the morgue.
Fine. But I'm coming along every step of the way.
When we catch him, I want to be there.
At the very least, I owe this guy a broken nose.
- I can live with that. - Go to your meeting.
I'll call Sam and see if we can lure Brandon out of hiding.
Thanks, Fi.
Mrs. Depaolo?
We don't mean to bother you, but is your son, Brandon, here?
Sorry. He moved out years ago.
Oh, uh, could you tell us where to find him?
Because Brandon's got himself a brand-new laptop,
hell, maybe even an iPad, if this check ever finds him.
- I don't know where he is. - Ah.
And why is he getting a check?
It's a legal matter.
Your son had some auto-body work done
at a shop in Brickell a couple years back.
Well, the owner of the shop just lost a class-action lawsuit.
He was overcharging his customers.
Brandon was a customer, so Brandon gets a check.
I mean, two g's may not seem like much, but --
$2,000? I know it's an inconvenience,
but maybe you could take the check
and hand it off to Brandon next time you see him?
I -- I could do that.
Great. Thank you very much.
So, she took the check. Now what?
Well, now Cathy takes the money to Brandon,
or he shows up here.
Almost always works, but it's not fast.
Why don't you go home? We'll take the first shift.
No. No, I'm on every shift.
Lucky us.
Whether you're operating out of a war room in Langley
or commandeering a hotel in South Beach,
all CIA investigations work the same.
Because analysts are tied
directly into federal and local databases,
they have information at their fingertips.
What they don't have is a magic button
that tells them what is a real lead
and what is a dead end.
That takes boots on the ground, eyeballs on the screens,
and lots and lots of coffee.
What, the CIA can't afford filing cabinets?
Oh. I don't think I'll be getting much sleep
until we find Max's killer.
So, where are we? What are we doing?
We'd like to revisit your final operation with Max.
I read the file -- some sort of corporate espionage
the French were involved with?
Dead end. Got out clean.
The operation before that, then.
I'm telling you, that's not where you want to look.
We were doing small-scale field operations,
nothing that would get anyone killed.
If you are trashing my leads,
you better have something to suggest.
How about cellphone activity around Max's office?
The FBI's gonna run them down.
FBI? That's three weeks of red tape.
Are you sure that's a good idea?
These investigations take time, Michael. You know that.
Someone who's not "official"
could work a lot faster than the FBI.
If that were the case,
I wouldn't want to know details,
because if that person got caught digging...
They'd be on their own.
It was nice not seeing you today.
What's with the "Yellow Pages"?
Just a little pleasure reading.
This is taking forever. Brandon's not gonna show.
He'll show. Just be patient.
In Afghanistan, things were a lot simpler, you know?
You get your orders, you get your bullets, take your shot.
Who do you think gets the intel
to tell you where to point your rifle and take that shot?
A spy sitting in a car all day.
At least we got yogurt.
Hold on. We have a guest.
Yep, that's Brandon, all right.
That son of a bitch.
Hold on. Hold on. We talked about this.
We'll grab him on the way out.
Whether you're kidnapping a ruthless dictator
in a foreign country
or snatching an abusive boyfriend off the street,
it's best not to leave a mess behind.
Using your target's own car as a getaway vehicle
keeps neighbors from asking about the missing owner.
Plus, you don't have to pay for gas.
Don't worry. We're not gonna hurt you.
We're just gonna ask you some questions.
You think you could beat on my sister and get away with it?
Ethan!
I didn't -- I d--
Ethan!
He didn't give a beating. He took one.
What does that mean?
It means there's more to this than what we know.
Look at his face.
Stand down. Stand down.
You're all right. You're all right.
We're just gonna go for a little ride.
Gonna sort this out.
Really?
I didn't touch your sister, man. I would never hurt Heather.
Then tell us who did.
It's my boss, Brad Ramsey.
He runs a medical-insurance scam in Homestead.
He'd give me money to pay off medical clerks.
I wanted to do something nice for Heather,
so I skimmed some of the cash to take her away for the weekend.
And Ramsey found out.
Heather fought back. I tried to help.
You left her bleeding in the driveway of a hospital
like a stray dog.
What was I supposed to do?
You were supposed to protect her!
And what about you, big bro?
Heather tried calling you for help,
but you were too busy playing Captain America in Afghanistan.
Hey. Interrogation 101 --
you lose your head, they stop talking.
You can skip the spy school. This bastard is the reason
Heather's breathing through a tube right now.
Breaking his jaw is not gonna get him to talk.
Go on. Cool off. Go outside.
Okay. Upsy-Daisy.
Stop crying. You're all right.
Now, if you don't cooperate,
I'm gonna let Ethan come back in here and talk to you.
Alone.
Do you understand?
All right. Tell me everything you know about Brad Ramsey.
People tend to think spies are motivated
by love of the game, desire for adventure,
or patriotic fervor.
The truth, though, is that you don't choose
a life as a covert operative
unless something deeper is going on beneath the surface,
something more personal,
something harder to explain,
and something a lot more painful.
I should have been there.
It wasn't your fault.
She was so beautiful.
Now look at her.
If you want to get the guy who put her in here...
...I know how to do it.
So, that's the guy who beat my sister?
That's him.
Ramsey runs the scam Brandon was wrapped up with.
The other chucklehead is Joel Davenport.
He steals Medicare numbers so Ramsey
can use them to bilk the insurance companies.
These guys are ruining a lot of lives.
This clinic used to help people,
but now it's basically just a private ATM for these scumbags.
So the guy's even more of a bastard than we thought?
Same plan as before, right?
Dragging Ramsey to the police isn't an option now.
The cops were your idea, remember?
Well, your sister basically helped rip off a scam artist.
Man, I'm just saying
the cops are not gonna make it a priority.
We grab him now, Ramsey spends a few hours behind bars.
He'll be out in time for happy hour.
Now, on the other hand, if we can get him
to show us the details of his little business,
he'll rot in jail until you're old and gray.
We're just gonna politely ask him
if we can see his scam? You think that'll work?
No, I'll have to approach Ramsey
as the kind of guy he'd want to talk to.
No. I'm approaching Ramsey. Was I unclear
when I said I'm coming along every step of the way?
Ethan, you're not trained for this.
Then train me.
When this is over, I want him to know it was me.
I owe that to Heather.
All right, kid. Fine.
You're gonna need a suit.
Excuse me. We're looking for Brad Ramsey.
Well, you found him.
We don't mean to spoil the party,
but we'd like a few minutes of your time, talk a little business.
Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure
that you guys aren't on the guest list.
Just give us two minutes of your time --
no interruptions, no intrusions --
and I promise you, next year at this time,
your vacation home in Rio will make this place
look like a dollhouse.
Let's talk over here.
What kind of business you guys in?
Same as you.
Only on a much bigger scale.
We can't go into much detail right now,
but our network is pulling in some serious cash.
We'd like to bring you in.
I only work for one man -- me.
I'm doing just fine on my own.
That's why we want you.
But why settle for "just fine"
when you could be doing "great"?
You got to think bigger.
I mean, sure, your kiddy pool with a "view" is fine.
But the pool
at our place on Star Island -- now, that's great.
Come to our party. Check it out.
Who knows -- maybe you'll like what we have to offer.
No offense -- I mean, I'm sure you guys are doing great,
but, uh, I got things under control.
We're talking the big time here, Ramsey.
You want to be bush league forever?
Bush league? Who are you calling bush league?
Uh, you'll have to forgive my young, enthusiastic friend.
When we found him, he was scraping by
on 6 grand a week in a timeshare scam,
so we had to drag him out of the gutter.
Sometimes his passion gets ahead of his manners.
Here's our info.
In case you change your mind about...
Moving up in the world?
I have to get back to my guests.
Feel free to stick around. Have a beer.
And then get the hell off my property.
I just blew it. You did fine.
Did you clock his face when I said "6 grand a week"?
We'll be seeing him again.
Hey, man.
Whoa.
What...
I'm sorry. Am I in the...wrong...
This is Michael Westen's place, right?
Look, I knew Fi was gonna shake things up
a little bit in here, but come on, now, man.
You got a breadbasket. Are you cool with all this?
Yeah, you know, it's, um...
...A process. Right.
Do you have an update on those phone records?
Yes.
But before I do, I just want to point out,
even if you can dodge this frame-up thing,
you and I could get into a lot of trouble for this.
I owe you, Jesse.
No, I mean, like, this is in violation
of an executive order
and a pretty big constitutional amendment.
I really owe you? Yeah. You do.
Okay.
All these red dots represent cellphone calls
made around Max's building.
Now, if we eliminate all the calls
made a half-hour before or after Max's death,
anything with, uh, family plans,
anything easily traceable,
we are left with...
One call.
Made from a burner cell to a pay phone. Boom.
The killer was probably signaling that the job was done.
- It's a dead end. - Oh, no.
No, you will not rain on my cellphone-magic parade,
because I tracked the burner to the bodega that sold it.
I'm gonna go grab the security tapes and find out who bought it.
I really, really owe you, Jesse.
Yes, you do. Sam, what's going on?
Ramsey just called.
Said he can't wait to go to our party.
You would've been proud, Mikey.
Watching Ethan work a cover
was like seeing a baby take his first steps,
only, you know, less adorable.
Did your new lady friend get us a car?
Ha, you call it a car.
I call it a work of art.
What about the house?
Are we ready to introduce Ramsey to a new life?
Yeah, yeah. We're all set. But listen, Mike.
Just so we're clear, nothing happens
to big mama's wheels or the mansion.
'Cause once you've laid your head
on 2,000-thread-count sheets,
you never want to go back to the couch.
Ohh, yeah.
Is that potpourri that I'm smelling?
You're killing me, man.
Jealousy is a delicate emotion.
Show someone what they can't have,
and they'll just resent you.
Give it to them too easy, and they won't appreciate it.
They key is allowing them just enough of a taste
so all they want is more.
Ah.
Our guest of honor.
I still can't believe I'm supposed to drink with the guy.
Just think of it this way --
every time the bastard cracks a smile,
he's tightening the noose around his own neck.
Hey! Look who's here!
It's about time.
Better late than never.
Think our friend here needs a drink, yeah?
Yeah.
So I said, "Shoot the dog." And so I did.
Oh, sorry, ladies.
- Come on, now. - Don't worry.
We'll get to them later.
There's somebody I want you to meet.
Fast Eddie, Brad Ramsey.
The infamous Brad Ramsey. Bring it in here.
I've been called worse.
- Yeah, I'll bet you have, man. - Hey, sit down, guys.
Please, please.
So, Eddie here...
Is the wizard behind our global network.
He sets up fake medical facilities
that spit out real money. It's easy, really.
A lot of places around the world, healthcare is 10% of the GDP.
It's so big, no one even notices when we take a little...
slice for ourselves, isn't that right?
That's just fancy talk for
"We have a very good thing going."
Oh, look, I'm a little low.
Why don't you fill him in? I'll be right back.
It seems like you guys got it all figured out.
What do you need me for?
Oh. One can never have too many friends.
South Florida is a -- is a Medicare gold mine, okay?
Our only problem is, we're not hooked up down here.
You are. So we want to see your whole network.
Then we combine your ideas with our capital,
everybody gets rich.
What, are you crazy?
It took me seven years to set up my business.
You think I'm just gonna hand it over?
No, w-we're not asking you to hand over anything, Ramsey. This is a merger.
We get to see the details behind your operation,
the mind that created it, and then you get all this.
Oh. There's the boss.
He blew off Pebble Beach to meet you.
Shall we?
Come on, man.
Beautiful.
- Eduardo. - Boss.
You must be Ramsey. Welcome aboard.
Not so fast. I ain't signed any dotted lines just yet.
Did I hop on my G6 for a "Maybe"?
What can I say? The best don't come easy. I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry"? "I'm sorry" doesn't get me back on the links
in time for the back nine, does it?
What's the holdup?
It's not his fault.
This seems too good to be true.
Then your guys start asking details about my business.
I mean, how do I know you're not cops?
Fair question.
Deserves an honest answer.
Cops write tickets.
Cops eat doughnuts.
They don't do this.
Son of a bitch!
Careful.
I learned jujitsu on the sands of Okinawa.
That's -- that's my car! No, that's not your car.
That's your car.
I call it the thinking car.
Take your time. Have a ball.
- "Thinking car"? - Felt right at the time.
It felt -- I don't give a damn how it felt.
I better see my car again, Mike.
I know the feeling, buddy.
So, when are we finished with the car-giving phase.
I'd love to get to the ass-kicking phase.
Seducing Ramsey with our scam is a process, Ethan.
He's inches away from giving us
everything we need to take him down.
Now, the more info we can ask him for about the scam,
the more he's got to talk to his guys.
We drop a bug in those conversations,
the cops are gonna have some easy listening.
So, what, I have to hang with him some more?
As soon as we get everything we need from the bug,
you can break off your friendship,
but you have to be --
patient. I-I know. I know.
So, how do we get the bug on him?
Well, Ramsey was damn near drooling over my watch, Mike.
Great. Let's give him another gift.
Mike...
What happened to the bench, the one with the work toys?
Fiona thought that she didn't want to mix work with...
It's in the back now.
When bugging a watch, it's better
to use a good-looking knock-off than its authentic counterpart,
and not just because it's easier on your wallet.
The insides of a fake timepiece
are usually smaller and simpler,
leaving more room for hiding a listening device.
As long as your target isn't a watch connoisseur,
zinc alloy and cubic zirconia
are a great way of saying "Let's be friends."
Ramsey, my man. Here you go.
Boss was glad you finally came to your senses.
I was glad, too.
Yeah, I'll be glad when I start to see some serious green.
Eager. Yeah, I like -- I like that.
It reminds me of me.
Once you give the boss the details on your operation,
we'll bring you up to speed on our system,
and from there, smooth sailing.
Hey. Look at this.
I got you a little welcome gift.
Well, now.
I think that'll look just great on me.
I got one just like it. I call it the lucky watch.
If I were you, I'd never take that thing off.
Think I can do that.
All right. Come on. Come on. The guys are waiting for you.
A thousand bucks you hit nothing but water.
We'll see about that. Pull!
Double or nothing?
Hey. Look who I found.
Ramsey.
If you're here, then you're done thinking.
- That car can be pretty convincing. - Good.
Now that you're coming on board, let's iron out the details.
We need to get an understanding of how you move your money around.
Way ahead of you. This is the Medicare
fee schedule from my last scam.
You came all the way here to waste our time?
This could have been written on a cocktail napkin!
Oh!
What we're looking for is, well, everything.
All your doctor names, all your patient numbers,
every little detail of your enterprise.
You give us that, then we can move forward.
Every little detail of your enterprise.
Triple or nothing?
I'll talk to my guys, put something together.
You do that.
And just so you know, I'm keeping the Porsche.
If you tried to give it back, I'd worry about you.
Yeah, uh, Mike, since Jesse's helping you
with your little CIA problem,
you might want to get his car back for him.
One problem at a time, Sam.
In certain neighborhoods, posing as a dirty cop
is a great way to confiscate information.
It gives you the authority that comes with a badge
and invokes the fear that comes with being a criminal.
Hello, there. I'm Officer Stone.
We have ourselves a little situation.
Last week, Officer Goodtimes over there came in here
and bought a jug of vodka with his pay-by-the-hour friend.
Stressful job, Sharon.
Guy's got to blow off a little steam every now and again.
This guy knows what I'm talking about.
The thoroughly embarrassing evidence
is all over your surveillance tapes,
and we're gonna need them.
Yeah.
Those tapes are pretty expensive.
I suppose I could part with them for, oh...
500 bucks?
You know what, it might be easier
to throw your sorry ass in jail
for those bootleg DVDs you got back there.
And selling booze to minors.
Wow. Got a real state-of-the-art operation
going on here, don't you?
It's everything from last month.
We're gonna need some popcorn.
Got a better idea. Throw in a carton of smokes.
Hmm. Mm-hmm. Hmm? Yeah.
And I'm watching all of these why?
A friend of mine, he was murdered.
The killer might be on one of these tapes.
Mm.
What am I looking for exactly?
Whenever you see someone buy a cellphone,
mark the date and time.
Well, it's your lucky day,
'cause I'm boycotting my favorite soap this week.
Oh?
Dr. Wesley broke off his engagement,
and he moved to Alaska!
That's too bad.
Yeah.
How's it going with -- what's his name?
Ethan?
He's holding his own.
Joel, Joel.
Just give me the paperwork for the doctors' I.D.s.
How am I supposed to trust you?
What the hell are you talking about?
I'm in charge of this. Your judgment's off lately!
Those guys who gave you the Porsche --
you don't even know them!
- Are you sure this is gonna work? - We'll make it work.
I talked to the other guys,
and they all agree with me -- you're a liability.
First, you put that girl in the hospital.
If she recovers --
if that bitch recovers, I'm gonna finish her off!
No big deal!
What -- what are you doing? Let go of me.
Joel, I need you to listen to me very carefully.
He's talking about killing my sister.
You all right?
I got no problem putting you
or any of the other guys in the hospital.
Yeah. I, uh, I just need to get some air.
This is my business, not yours.
I make the decisions.
You're not even supposed to be back here.
We'll talk later.
O-okay, fine. Okay, fine. I got it.
What do you want to bet he's going after Ramsey at the clinic?
Then we better get there first.
Where the hell is he?
Oh, Ethan's a sniper.
He's not taking a shot from here.
He'd try to find a perch.
Right there. 9:00.
Man, that kid set up fast.
He wouldn't fire on Ramsey in a crowd, would he?
No. He's like Michael.
He'll wait for a clear shot.
All right. Let's go. I'll talk him down.
It's too late. We need a distraction.
Protecting a target from a bullet
sometimes means taking a few shots at them yourself.
A near miss puts the target on their guard
and keeps the real gunman at bay.
Fi. Fi, not my car! Relax.
I'll just put one through the windshield.
But you can never predict how someone is going to react
to a bullet whizzing by their head.
What the hell, man?!
Just the windshield, Fi?
- He was... - He never got a shot off.
Fi fired first and scared Ramsey away,
which is not to say it's a victimless crime because my car --
What the hell were you thinking?
You want to know what I was thinking?
I was thinking as long as I corrected for a slight breeze
and pulled the trigger on my exhale,
the guy who put my sister in the hospital
wasn't going to exist anymore.
We had a deal. We had a plan.
Yeah, and your plan wasn't working!
It wasn't working as fast as you wanted it to.
Big difference.
You got a way to bring the son of a bitch down
before I retire? I'm all ears.
We needed Ramsey talking to his crew.
Now he thinks someone's trying to kill him.
He's not gonna talk to his crew.
He's not gonna talk to anyone. He's gonna --
Three voicemails in the last hour.
Ramsey can't stop calling me.
Oh, come on. That's a little funny.
Dude's reaching out to the guy that, um,
tried to kill him. I'm sorry.
Ethan, we can still use this.
Things are already tense in Ramsey's crew.
- You call him. You tell him -- - No, no, no, no, no!
I'm done pretending to be this bastard's friend!
All right, so, uh, well, it sounds like you want
to turn Ramsey on his own crew, pin the shooting on them?
But the only person who can run point just walked out the door.
And?
He is not an option.
Unless you want to be in the room
standing between Ethan and Ramsey.
Familiar scene out there.
You remember when you came home on leave that first time?
You spent hours out there the day that you found out
that Patrick Garney had stolen your girlfriend.
And then you stole his motorcycle
and drove it into the Miami River.
Mom, I think this is a little different.
If you say so.
How many years of training did it take
before you learned to curb your anger, Michael?
The man you are today is not the boy who left home.
You were a scared kid when you left.
You were angry at the world. You were angry at everything.
I've seen loved ones get hurt.
I've never plotted to kill anyone in cold blood.
No.
Your mother raised you better than that.
Someone has to teach him, Michael.
You can save it.
You want Ramsey dead,
and you don't think I have anything to say
worth listening to.
Well, I understand that feeling.
So, uh...
Do you want to compare body counts?
All right. If it's gonna be that kind of talk.
Actually, it's not.
I'm telling you I know more about this than you do.
You're not in a war zone anymore, Ethan.
So you're saying you think I'll regret killing the guy
'cause this isn't a battlefield?
Listen to me. I won't.
I want to finish this my way.
You don't get to do what you want to do.
You lost that right the moment your sister got beaten.
What's that supposed to mean?
Your life doesn't belong to you.
Your decisions affect other people.
You need to start thinking about Heather.
That is what I'm doing.
You can't help her from jail.
You know who acts out of selfish anger?
The Ramseys of this world.
And that's their weakness.
And that's what you use to destroy them.
What do I do?
You look Ramsey in the eye one last time.
You go to bat for him.
You convince him you are his best friend.
And when he's ready to burn his whole life to cinders...
You hand him the match.
Ramsey! Ramsey!
Come on.
Ramsey, what the hell's going on? Come on. Come on. Come on.
Come on.
Come on! Come on.
Someone shot at me coming out of the clinic.
I hope to God you're kidding.
Someone's shooting at him.
We're through here. Thanks for playing. Next.
Whoa, hold on. Hold on. Every problem's got a solution.
Does anyone have a reason to shoot at you?
Do you have any problems?
I mean, do any of your people know about our deal?
My guys? Oh, they would -- they would never.
All right. Well, wait. There was -- there --
there was one -- there was one guy
that was pissed that I was talking to you.
Every time we work with amateurs,
the minute money's on the table, people start shooting.
Okay, but it's his people. It's not him.
So give the guy a break.
You can take care of this the way you did for me.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. What are you talking about?
He means turn your crew over to the cops. Are you slow?
That's how we got rid of the kid's baggage
when he started working for me.
Turn the cops on my crew?
If they're shooting at you, they're not your crew anymore.
If you're working with us, we got to tie up loose ends.
I can't -- Ramsey!
This is the moment, all right?
If you want to work with us,
this deal could pull in $50 mil a year.
That's 10% for you. That's your cut.
$5 million?
Yeah, but you don't get any of that
unless you can take care of your problems here.
What's it gonna be?
Kid, let's go. All right, wait.
Wait, wait, wait. All right.
I can do this, okay?
Yes.
Change your shirt. You look like a hick.
Call our guys. Let's get this done.
This is everything I got.
You sure none of this is gonna point back at me?
Not that it matters.
You'll be on the beach in the Caymans.
Maybe you'd like a little company.
All right.
Love to stay for the fun part, but we got to jet.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
What's this for? It's for the house.
We're making sure nothing connects any of this to you.
You want me to burn my own house down?
Uh, yeah. Come on, Ramsey. Be serious.
How many parties have you had in this place?
Your crew has fingerprints everywhere,
hair, DNA, all kinds of crap.
Believe me. We're gonna set you up with a new
place to call home.
For a spy,
revenge is a dish that is rarely served at all.
The mission objective always takes priority
over personal satisfaction.
Care to do the honors?
But if conning a scam artist
into burning everything he's worked his whole life to build
serves that mission,
it's hard not to take a little joy
in watching it all go up in flames.
Come on, man. Don't sweat it.
The boss has got the jet fueled and ready.
Blink, and we'll be in Monaco.
I take it everything went well.
Like a dream. Great.
I'll tell the pilot we're ready to take off.
If you have any other loose ends...
...Now's the time to speak up.
Nope. No loose ends.
Wait, what was that? You -- what, you think of something?
No, man, it's nothing. It's -- it's all good.
Look, if you're holding something back
and the boss finds out about it later,
he's gonna drop your body off that jet.
There is something.
It's just this bitch.
Okay? I beat her down. I-I put her in the hospital.
Is there a problem?
No, we're fine.
We're just working out one last little...kink.
Some bitch in a hospital bed?
Then you need to take care of it.
What do you mean, take care of it?
Little poison in the I.V., and she'll sleep forever.
Kill her?
Listen, you can wrap this up
or you can hang here with your boys,
wait till they rat you out, and let the cops drag you.
It's your choice.
Clock's ticking.
Okay. I-I'll do it.
I'll put the bitch out of her misery.
A soldier on the battlefield would never dream
of intentionally putting a dangerous weapon
in the hands of an enemy.
But as a spy, sometimes the only way to solve a problem
is trusting a bad guy to do what comes naturally.
And if you help with the plan,
you know exactly how to make them fail.
Drop it! Put the needle down! What, man?
Get off of me! Get him out of here!
Get off of me, man! I was set up!
You got him? Great.
I would have felt so guilty if something bad would have happened.
No, uh, I'd rather not give my name.
I don't even know the guy. I'm just a citizen doing my duty.
Hey, hey! That's the guy!
That's the guy who set me up!
That's the guy!
It's open.
I just got back from the hospital.
It's still touch-and-go with Heather,
but she's through the worst patch, so...
- I'll be by her side every day. - Good.
Sam called with some more good news.
Looks like Ramsey's enjoying his jail time
with all the guys he ratted out.
Huh. I'm offended he didn't call me first.
I thought we were friends.
I should tell you -- I did some thinking,
and I'm having lunch with those CIA recruiters next week.
What is it?
Well, I was wondering...
Does, um, does it ever get any easier?
No.
It never does.
Well, can you at least tell me this --
if you could do it all over again, would you?
It's who I am. I don't know how to be anybody else.
Not really an answer, but I guess, uh, I guess it'll do.
Take care of yourself, Michael.
W-wait, so that's it on the forensics, then?
I want answers, not excuses.
All right, you know what? Don't even bother.
I don't want to read a 20-page field report
on how you found nothing.
Langley's all over my ass, Michael,
and my leads are evaporating left and right.
Max's financial records, nothing.
Traffic cams, nothing.
You better have brought me something to chew on.
Thank you. Could be something.
Found a burner cell in the records you gave me.
Phone was purchased at a bodega on 6th.
They have a security camera?
You already got the footage.
I don't want to know how. I just want answers.
Already sifting through the tapes.
I'll have something to report soon.
You'll have a report for me tomorrow.
Isn't that what I just said?
Uh, Michael?
I'm counting on you here.
So is Max's family.
Mom? Got your call.
Did you find something on the tape?
Michael, you need to tell me what this is all about right now.
I already told you. My friend --
you told me that the security tape
would lead to the man who killed your friend.
And I know you've spared me some details.
I need them now.
The person who killed my friend
went to a lot of trouble to make it look like I did it.
I'm hoping the real killer is on that tape.
You need to see this.
He has your posture, your -- your walk.
He's got you down, Michael.
Good luck convincing anybody else it isn't you.
He's got you down, Michael.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==