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.
- 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,
you're not going anywhere.
Mr. Westen, we're aware of your past affiliation
with a rogue network of burned spies.
To the best of your knowledge,
does any trace of that network still exist.
No.
All of that's over now.
Who the hell are you?
I'm the one who watched you tear down
every last shred of the organization that burned you.
The organization I spent half my life building.
I framed you,
and now I'm framing your girlfriend for murder.
I own you.
I don't want you doing anything for that man.
I don't have a choice, Fi,
unless we find some leverage of our own.
Michael, listen to me.
There's no moves left on the chess board.
I know you.
About five years ago, I filled in
as a substitute for Madeline's therapist.
She didn't know who she was talking to.
It's your father you should be upset with.
The things that man gave us before he passed away...
Anson's using that dish to talk to someone.
So, Anson was calling here?
- Wait a second. Is that... - Benny.
As in, your mother's boyfriend, Benny.
Ma, you don't have to do this.
I don't care how long it takes.
I want to know if it was all a lie.
Did you get the package I sent you?
Yeah, I got the package.
Package?
When a spy is killed in the field,
it's often hardest on the people they were spying on.
It's about Benny.
Anson is using him to spy on us.
Mourning the death of someone you thought you knew
is complicated enough
when the spy was a trusted colleague or friend.
I thought he had feelings for me.
But it's even more difficult
when they were someone you loved.
Hi, mom.
I'm sorry I didn't make it to the funeral.
How you holding up?
Honestly?
I don't know.
I feel like I should be glad
that a man who was spying on me is gone.
But I don't.
It felt like he knew me in a way that no one else did.
We liked the same songs.
And he'd take me places I always wanted to go, and...
I know it sounds crazy,
but I honestly thought that we were made for each other.
Benny knew you, but not because he was your soul mate.
What are you talking about?
Six years ago, your therapist went on sabbatical.
W-what does that have to do with Benny?
Your substitute therapist was Anson Fullerton.
He arranged sessions with you
so he could find out background information on me.
He was preparing to burn me.
He hired Benny.
He gave him all the information he would need
to make sure that you two hit it off.
All so that he could keep tabs on me.
How long have you known about this?
Ever since I met Anson.
And you said nothing?
I didn't want you to get hurt.
Get out.
You had no right to keep that from me!
Get the hell out of my house.
Get out!
Finger on the housing, not the trigger, Fi.
Anson had no problem killing Madeline's boyfriend.
Who's to say he'll stop there?
Look, trust me, I wouldn't put anything past the guy,
but I don't think he wants to break his new toy just yet.
He still has plans for Mike,
so can we please focus on keeping your boyfriend safe?
Here he comes now.
Hello, Michael.
I know it's been a big week,
but rest assured, nothing's changed between us.
You sent a man to spy on my mother.
And when I found out, you had him killed.
I think things have changed.
I killed him?
Michael. Come on.
You knew Benny was dead the minute you tried to use him against me.
You want to pretend that's not true, go ahead.
But don't blame me.
What do you want?
My money.
Your little investigation into me
got a certain Cayman Islands account
flagged by U.S. intelligence.
It's too risky to wire the money,
so I need somebody to go there in person.
I can't fly to the Caymans. CIA tracks my travel.
Well, that's what friends are for.
They're here somewhere, right?
Nestled in some little sniper perch with a clear view of us?
If they're willing to shoot me for you,
I imagine they'll fly to the Caribbean
and blackmail a banker. The job shouldn't be too hard.
I tend to work with people who are easy to manipulate.
So check out the skeletons in this guy's closet
and call me when my money's stateside.
I won't be told what to do forever.
I need to know this ends.
You're done by the end of the month, Michael.
I promise.
In the meantime, remember, actions have consequences.
Just ask your mother.
Burn Notice 5x16 Depth Perception Original Air Date on December 1, 2011
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Hey, guys.
Mike, you okay?
Hey, your mom's a tough lady. She's gonna be fine.
So, listen, I've been checking into this Cayman Islands business
that Anson wants us to do.
I think I got an angle we can use. I made some calls.
You know we can't go to the cops, Sam,
unless you want Anson to drop a ton of bricks directly on my head.
I'm not talking about the cops.
I'm talking about going to the FBI,
high enough so we can sort out your blackmail problem.
I mean, I'm gonna have to call in a lot of favors --
it's probably the only play we have.
But we still have to go get Anson's money.
Fi, do you think you can convince Jesse
to back you up on a trip to the Cayman Islands?
Sure.
The Cayman Islands are home to only 60,000 people,
but thanks to lenient tax laws,
it's the fifth-largest financial center in the world,
but it's not banking like most people are used to.
Bank locations tend to not offer services
like online bill pay, drive-through teller windows,
or even ATMs.
What they lack in modern conveniences
they make up for in guaranteeing their clients
complete security and anonymity.
Whether you're a Wall Street executive
looking for a tax shelter
or an international criminal hiding a small fortune,
it's nearly impossible
for government agencies to access your information
when your bank of choice is nothing more
than a number in a phone book, a sign on a window,
and a sleazy banker with very white teeth.
You read Anson's file on this dude?
He hides money for everyone --
terrorist groups, arms traffickers, warlords.
I feel like I need a shower just looking at him.
Let's get this over with.
Fi, Fi, whoa -- we trying to get this guy
to transfer a couple hundred million off the books.
You think the move is to just blackmail him in the street?
Of course not.
I'm just gonna invite him to lunch.
Uh, Mr. Anders, a moment?
Banking hours are over.
Sir, I promise this will be worth your while.
We heard you're the best. My wife's father's dying.
That's very sad. I have a meeting.
- Mr. Anders! - Yes?
We did not charter a private jet from the Hamptons
to waste your time.
Listen, we have a very...
very large sum of money that we need to move
before her old man kicks the bucket
and his company's board checks the books.
We're talking a $200 million estate.
- Now, if you're not interested... - No. No.
I apologize for being brusque.
I-I don't get many walk-in clients.
Oh, that's understandable.
Let's start over.
How about we take you to lunch tomorrow?
How does 1:00 p.m. sound?
Excellent. Meet me here.
Bring your account information. I'll look it over.
I'll take care of any funds you wish to deposit.
Okay? See you tomorrow.
Okay. Now Sam's got to do his part.
When you want to catch
a well-placed and well-protected spy,
you can't just call local police.
That kind of investigation takes high-level resources
and an even higher level of operational secrecy,
which means you have to start
with someone connected to the very top.
A meeting with the deputy director, huh?
Big favor, Axe.
I guess that explains why you bought me an $18 scotch.
Come on. It's a couple of calls.
You got friends in the D.C. office.
And I'd like to keep them.
Look, my friends are in a tight spot.
Spare me the details, all right?
I'll set it up,
but I don't want to get any more involved than I have to.
Fair enough. Thanks, Harris.
And if this thing blows back on me,
there won't be enough scotch in the world
to keep me off your ass.
Loud and clear.
Excuse me. Sam? There's a young woman asking for you.
I told her she'd have to wait until your meeting was over.
Ibarbilla! Beatriz?!
Oh! Wow! Is it great to see you!
What's it been -- like five years?
What are you doing here?
Looking for you. I've been all over the city.
And nobody knew where you lived.
Well, you found me. Sit down.
So, what brings you to Miami?
You come all the way from Bogotá for a social visit?
I came because I need your help.
Okay, we'll get some dinner, you can fill me in,
we'll catch up on old times.
Sam, this is serious.
Someone's trying to kill me.
Okay, so, you wrote all these?
For the newspaper, yes.
And you think something in one of these articles
made someone want to kill you?
Not think. I know it!
Okay. But this is in Russian.
Since when do you speak Russian?
Okay. So, what do you want me to do, exactly?
You know people with the government.
You can call them.
And say what?
You know, here's 50 pages of research,
a bunch of articles on Colombian/Russian oil contracts.
It's complicated stuff.
Complicated?
This is simple.
I print this,
and the next day they try to shoot me.
I got a call...
from a man I didn't know.
I was busy,
so I told my assistant to take the call.
She was there at my desk
when the bullet came through the window.
Now she's in the hospital.
On life support.
Christ, kid.
Yeah, sounds like somebody set you up for sure.
Do you know who this guy is, the guy who's after you?
You got nothing?
Nothing.
I'm sorry. I-I didn't know who else to ask.
It's okay. You came to the right place. We'll sort this out.
First thing we got to do is find out who this son of a bitch is.
Chances are he's still trying to track you down.
Okay, get your stuff.
Let's get you someplace safe,
hopefully someplace that doesn't smell like wet socks.
Something's wrong.
Gun! Move!
Looks like the bastard who's been after you followed you to Miami.
We got to get to that car.
We're not gonna make it! Mira.
Surviving an enemy sniper attack
is about finding adequate cover
while being able to stay mobile enough
to escape the shooter's pre-scouted kill zone.
Pulling the shifter linkage of a parked car into neutral
and using it as a rolling barricade
allows you to do both...
Stay behind the car. Okay? Ready? Push, push, push!
...As long as you can get it moving.
He's reloading. Let's move!
Okay, let's go!
You okay? Are you hit? I'm fine.
Go! Go!
So, Mike, what you think?
I mean, you know these eastern bloc types better than me.
It's been a long time, and I didn't know any operatives
who worked in Latin America.
You know, you blew the whistle on a lot of powerful people.
Any one of them can be after you.
You're sure you have no idea?
I already told you. I don't know.
We know the guy was trained.
And the hardware he was using was serious.
Probably Russian FSB
but that doesn't narrow it down much.
Mike, uh... This may sound crazy,
but we know a shrink whose job it is
to profile and identify agents like this.
You want to bring Anson in on this?
We got to find this guy before he takes another shot.
Anson's our best bet at I.D.'ing him.
Anson's killed at least four people since we've met him.
Are you sure you want to ask him for help?
Mike, I don't like this, either,
but the kid means a lot to me, okay?
She saved my life more than once when I was down in Colombia.
So if she comes to me for help, I'm damn well gonna do it.
As a spy, you get used to the idea
that you sometimes have to ask your enemies for help.
It's not an easy thing to do,
but unfortunately the best information
is often in the hands the worst people.
So, you want me to help you find a Russian spy?
Michael, I think you're confused
about the nature of our relationship.
You work for me.
And I've done what you've asked.
Now I'm asking for something in return.
What you get in return is your girlfriend's freedom.
Now, don't call me again until you have my money.
Before you go, I want you to think about something.
You've seen my psych profile.
- I helped write your psych profile. - Good.
Then you know that if my friends are in danger -- real danger --
I will help them, whatever the risks.
What's the point?
My point is I'm no good to you dead or in jail.
So you help me, and it's a lot more likely
I will stay healthy, free, and useful to you.
Fine. I'll help.
But here's what it's gonna cost you.
I get to come along and watch you work, every step.
Deal.
I'll be in touch.
And tell Fi and Jesse my bank account is still empty.
I must apologize again for before.
People don't always understand the, uh, high-dollar-amount,
discreet financial service we arrange.
I assure you we understand exactly what you do.
Well, let's get right to it, then, shall we?
How can I help you?
Well, here's the deal, George.
There's been a bit of a change of plans.
We don't need you to make a deposit.
We need you to make a withdrawal from this account.
That's impossible. This is a flagged account.
They'll know the moment the money's touched.
Now, unless there's something else,
I'd say this meeting is over.
Well, there is something else.
Take a look at this.
These are my confidential client accounts.
- How on earth did you get this?! - Doesn't matter how we got it.
All that matters is what we can do with it.
You really think I'm gonna sit here and let this happen?
Let you blackmail me?
Um...Yeah.
It's actually pretty simple, George.
If you don't get us the money that we're asking for,
well, all these dangerous clients of yours are gonna
find out that you haven't been so discreet after all.
Sharing their financial info would be quite a deal breaker.
My clients know that I would never --
okay, who should we call first --
the drug dealers or the terrorists?
Druggies are closer. That's true. That's true.
But the terrorists are a little quicker on the trigger, don't you think?
Uh-huh.
Yeah, what's the country code for Algeria?
George, do you know --
okay, okay, okay. Look. Fine.
I'll get the money.
Meet me at the, uh, old church grounds.
St. Anthony's. Tomorrow at noon.
Thank you, George.
I would insist that you stay for lunch,
but you have work to do.
- Yeah. - Mm-hmm.
There you are, Michael.
I must admit, I'm warming to the notion
of you coming to me for help.
I think it'll be good for us.
You said you had something on who's after Beatriz.
I went back to the office and worked up a profile,
uh, based on involvement in the oil industry,
assignments into Colombia,
and, of course, skill with a sniper rifle.
Any good candidates?
Beatriz's article referenced a man named Oscar aguirre.
Real name -- Oscar Markov.
He wasn't supposed to be at that energy conference.
She outed a spy.
And now that his cover's blown, his number-one priority
is to silence his pretty little publicist.
Question is, what will his next move be?
The FSB likes to plant spies
in big corporations on foreign soil.
He'd be looking to reconnect.
Exactly.
So I went a step further, located Russian intelligence's
favorite corporate headquarters here in Miami.
And?
The information's not free.
You already agreed to help.
I agreed to I.D. Oscar. Job done.
If you want to know where he is,
I want unfettered access to that brain of yours.
I get to ask the questions, and you have to answer them.
I don't have time to play these games.
No, you don't.
But I do.
Fine.
Ask me whatever you'd like. But just tell me where he is.
Oscar made an appointment at Dyban Industries.
It's a Russian energy firm on Miami Beach.
Probably on his way there now.
Well, where do you start?
Her. The blonde at the front desk.
She sees everyone that comes and goes through this lobby.
And she won't have the clearances
to know who's working with the FSB.
If we play it right, she can give us full access
to the building.
Let me ask you something.
What do you think happens to her
after you talk your way in?
This job is probably all that she has.
How do you justify that to yourself?
Unfettered access, remember?
Better she finds a new job than Sam buries a friend.
Hello.
Hi.
Good afternoon. How can I help you?
Uh, I have a meeting with Oscar Markov.
My name is Dmitri Malkin.
I believe I'm in the computer.
Okay. Let me check.
Irina. That's a beautiful name.
Uh...thank you.
Wasn't the youngest in Chekhov's "three sisters" named Irina?
Yes. Uh, actually, my father ran a theater in Moscow.
And he named me for her. Oh.
I'm sorry, Mr. Malkin.
Your friend signed in 20 minutes ago.
He went to suite 120, but your name --
it's not coming up.
You know what? This is my mistake. It --
could you let him use one of those temporary passes
to just go back while you and I sort this out?
Thank you, Irina.
Hi. Can I help you?
Ah, yes, I have a meeting in room 120
with that man right there.
You can wait for him in the lobby.
He'll see you when we're finished.
Maybe I wasn't clear.
I need to speak to him right now.
You see, we're in the middle of a negotiation.
Drop it, Mr. Westen.
I'm with Russian intelligence.
You don't think my employers briefed me
on the burned spy in Miami?
I will shoot you.
Go away.
Your man in there is out of control.
He's shooting at civilians.
He is FSB's problem, not yours.
See what you did?
I don't have time to deal with you.
Got a big enough mess on my hands already.
I can help you.
You can help? No.
His car was right outside. He's gone.
Too late, isn't it?
You're Oscar's handler in Miami.
He's your responsibility. Think about it.
What happens to you if I find him first?
If you find him and Oscar doesn't kill you,
I'll get someone else to finish the job.
Get this CIA trash out of my sight.
Okay, guys, here's what I got.
Talked to my cop buddy down at the precinct.
He's pulling the information from the traffic cameras
around the Russian energy firm.
He's gonna send me a screen grab any minute now
of the car Oscar got away in.
Oh, and my beers are off limits.
I don't think beverages were part of your little deal with Mike.
Is finding Oscar still the best idea?
He's running from you. He's running from his own people.
Why not just let him run?
Beatriz doesn't go home until she's safe.
That means taking Oscar down.
Yeah, uh, sorry to interrupt your psychotherapy, Mike.
I just got the footage.
Looks like Oscar's driving a red Ford.
License plate starts with, um, "B"?
- Is that an 8 or a 3? - Unbelievable.
Of course, when it comes to giving me a traffic ticket, they work perfectly.
So, how does Michael Westen deal with a dead end?
This isn't a social experiment, you son of a bitch.
We're talking about Beatriz here.
I know what the stakes are, Sam.
And I also know that my deal means
that I get my questions answered.
So?
Oscar found Beatriz once.
If we figure out how he tracked her down,
we can use that to lure him out.
I don't know how useful she'll be.
She talked to the hospital.
Her co-worker, the one that Oscar shot?
She died this morning.
Bea's pretty broken up.
I'm sorry about your friend.
It's my fault.
She's dead because of what I did.
Oscar made the choice to shoot your friend.
He's to blame, not you.
Tell that to her little sister.
Listen, the only way we're gonna make this right
is if we find him.
Now, other than Sam,
was there anyone else who knew you were in Miami?
I e-mailed a friend at the Miami consulate.
She helped me with travel and the motel and everything.
Well, that's how Oscar found you.
And if we're gonna trap him,
he needs to think he's found you again.
I need you to e-mail your friend at the consulate,
set up a meeting there for later today.
Okay. And then?
And then I go to the consulate and I take care of Oscar.
Sam knows a lot of good places to stay low.
He's gonna take you far away from here.
You'll be safe until it's over.
There's George. Right on time.
Oh, and he's packing.
He just brushed his waistband, checking his gun.
He probably decided it was easier to kill us
than to get the money out of Anson's account.
Well, for a money guy, he's not good at calculating risk.
What do you think -- I zig, you zag,
surround him before he pees himself?
Sounds good.
George. Good to see you.
George! I thought we were friends.
You know, I'm beginning to think
he didn't hold up his end of the deal.
Look, please. I-I tried.
But I can't transfer the money. All right?
It's not just tracked.
It's flagged 10 different ways
by agencies I never even knew existed.
We'll make sure they can't find you.
I think it's time that George retired
from the dirty-banking business.
Ooh, I think so, too.
You know what, George? You had a good run.
Here's the deal -- you're gonna get the cash,
we're gonna help you vanish.
And I would get some money for yourself, too.
It'll help you lay low.
I'm sure the bad guys you're in bed with
have some spare change they can donate to the cause.
Rip off my clients? You're crazy.
They'd hunt me down. They'd kill me!
Probably best if they think he's already dead.
I like it.
I-I don't like it!
Well, you don't get a vote, big guy.
You just get us that money.
You have one hour. I suggest you get moving.
I took the money from your account,
and I deposited it into a clean one.
And...There we go.
Anson is officially many, many digits richer.
He's not the only one.
Exactly how much did you steal from your clients?
As much as I could carry.
Good. It's gonna have to last you a lifetime.
Only way you stay alive is if you play dead
till the day you die, my man.
We stopped at a blood bank
and made a withdrawal of our own.
Faking someone's death
is all about getting the details right.
The human body contains five liters of blood.
Finding half that amount
spilled across the seat of an abandoned car
is enough to lead any crime-scene investigator
to draw the obvious conclusion.
Hope you're not afraid of needles, George.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
Don't be squeamish.
We just need to leave a little of your DNA behind.
Answering the remaining questions
of where the body went and how the victim was injured
is as simple as a blood trail run cold,
destroying any DNA that doesn't match the victim,
and lots and lots of bullets.
All right, there's a change of clothes in the bag
and a boat waiting for you in the marina at the end of the road.
That's great, but can I get a ride?
No ghosts in the rental.
Have a nice death.
Hello?
Michael Westen. This is Ivan Baskov.
Ivan, do you keep a lot of CIA trash on speed dial,
or am I just special?
I've been ordered to make finding Oscar a top priority.
If my agents see you getting in the way,
they shoot on sight.
Is that clear enough for you, Michael?
Consider this your last warning.
What are you doing here?
I'm replacing the fuel injector of an old truck.
Just came by for some supplies.
Mom, I was trying to protect you.
Oh, just stop.
I think I've proven
that I can take anything your life throws at me.
What I can't take is your keeping things from me.
Mom -- I'm not finished.
Your life affects all of us.
It affects Sam. It affects Fiona.
Only I'm the only one who's left in the dark.
Mom, I'm sorry I didn't tell you.
Anson was using anything he could against me.
Fi, you.
And he mentioned dad.
What about your dad?
It doesn't matter.
I don't want to know. I don't need to know.
Michael, I'm not trying to tell you how to run your life.
You're a big boy.
But it's the things you don't know
that can hurt you.
You see anything?
Not yet, but from this vantage point,
Oscar's car won't be hard to spot.
So we have some time.
I'm curious about something.
Why this deep attachment to the people you help?
What are you talking about?
Well, here you are with me, someone you despise,
about to do something exceedingly dangerous
for someone you met yesterday.
Why?
Why do you care?
You don't think I want to understand the man who destroyed my life's work?
I want to know why you do what you do.
Sometimes good people are handed bad situations.
It's not their fault.
You're motivated by something
as generic as injustice, honestly?
Honestly, we're gonna have to get into it another time.
That's Oscar's car right on schedule. Time to end this.
If you want to incapacitate an enemy's moving car,
the first thing you need is a bigger vehicle.
A utility truck gives you enough horsepower
to keep you from getting left in the dust
and a full-size metal bumper that can take a pounding.
The trick is getting close enough to your target
to precisely time an accident
that keeps innocent bystanders out of harm's way
and surprises your enemy with a hard impact
to force them out of control.
And if their wheels aren't touching the ground,
they'll have no way to escape.
Hands! Hands up! Show me your hands!
Don't shoot, please! Put your hands up!
I can't! They're tied to the wheel!
This guy put a gun to my head
and said I had to drive to some building downtown, I swear.
You got to help me.
Sorry, but you're gonna have to sit tight.
I have bigger problems right now.
I know I'm new to field work,
but something tells me that's not Oscar
and this isn't how the plan was supposed to go...
And that this is a perfect place for an ambush.
If this was an ambush, we'd be dead already.
No, Oscar's trying to keep us busy.
Hey, Mike, what's up? You nab that guy?
Sam, Oscar knows where you are.
What? How?
Beatriz called the hospital with your phone.
He must have put a tap on the other end.
Mike, that was hours ago. He could be here already.
Is Oscar here? Get down!
Aah!
Crap!
Let's get out of here.
No, no, no. You stay still. We got to stop the bleeding.
Press that against there.
Sam?! Sam, you all right? What's going on?
Uh, Beatriz took some shrapnel.
We got to think of something, 'cause we're sitting ducks here.
I don't know how long we're gonna last.
All right, stay behind this vest
and keep the pressure on that bleeding.
Sam, hold on. I'm on my way.
What now, Michael?
Riding to Beatriz's and Sam's rescue?
What's the thought process behind that?
I'm done playing your games, Anson.
My games make more sense than charging off half-cocked.
I have to do something.
Even if it makes no sense?
Sam's a good enough soldier
to hold him off for a half an hour,
but you'll never get there before Oscar finishes the job.
You want to rip me apart right now?
Go ahead. It just proves I'm right.
You have all the answers, huh?!
Well, let's hear it! You tell me what to do!
Because we're running out of time!
I don't have the right answer. Just the right question.
Why do you think Oscar managed to outwit you here?
Because he's a sociopath like you.
He likes killing innocent people.
Wrong.
This is a waste of time.
If you want to save your friends, you have to dig deeper.
Where'd it all start?
Why did 17-year-old Michael join the army?
To get away from my dad.
- Is that what you want to hear, Anson? - No, no, no.
There's a reason
you have to be everybody's white knight, Michael.
You left because you thought if you saved the world,
you'd be safe at home.
And that's what Oscar needs right now.
He needs to feel safe.
Give him what he wants, Michael.
If you were him, what would you do?
What would make you call off the hunt?
What does he want?
He wants his life back.
And who can give it to him?
His handler.
We need to go see Ivan.
Where are the police?
Too far away, and Oscar knows it.
I'm gonna try and carve a way out of this death trap.
I thought I told you to stay out of my way.
That includes coming to my offices uninvited.
Listen, your Oscar problem is about to turn
into a double murder on U.S. soil.
You need to call off your dog right now.
Oscar is off his leash. Nothing I can do.
Unless you want to tell me where he is.
He will be gone when you get there, and my friends will be dead.
That's a pity.
It will be, because I'll have every U.S. agency
crawling all over this office,
and they'll be coming directly after you.
Fine. What do you want from me?
I want you to put an end to this.
You call him, you tell him his target,
Beatriz Pendas, works for you --
she's a Russian operative
running an off-the-books mission for you.
No, that's easy to say.
I want him off the streets, too,
but Oscar knows if he meets me again,
he gets shipped to Siberia.
He's not coming back in willingly.
He will if you convince him he's worth saving.
Oscar just wants to go home.
He wants to know that his sacrifices meant something.
He wants someone to tell him
that the nightmares that he sees when he closes his eyes
help other people sleep better at night.
He just wants the world to make sense again.
I know you can get ahold of him. Do it.
And if he does come in?
What then?
I think you have the answer to that in your right hand.
I don't like your friend here.
Neither do I.
Okay, your escape hatch is ready.
My escape?
You have to come, too!
I got to go out the front to distract Oscar
so you can get off the beach.
Otherwise, you're gonna be in the open too long.
That's crazy! Oscar will kill you!
He's after you, not me. Don't lie to me!
Don't you sass me, now, okay?
You're going out this way, I'm going out the front.
This is not open for a debate.
When you write about this back home,
make sure you spell my name right.
Hey!
Don't shoot!
So, I-it's over?
It should be. The Russians will deal with Oscar.
And since they claimed you as one of their agents,
you won't have to worry about them.
You should know, though,
if you keep reporting on the Russian oil thing,
your problems will come back.
I'll think about it.
See you back at the loft, Mike.
I'm gonna try and convince the doctor
to take the crazy parts out of her.
I trust the young woman is gonna make a full recovery?
Listen, Anson -- no need to thank me.
I wasn't going to thank you.
You know, I must admit, it was refreshing
to see you be honest with yourself for a change.
I think we've had a real breakthrough.
We still have some issues to work out.
One step at a time.
You know, Michael, you shouldn't be so hard on your old man.
He made you what you are.
And he wasn't quite the poisonous leech
you make him out to be.
Really?
And what makes you such an expert?
I knew Frank. Pretty well, actually.
You'd been on our radar for a while,
and he was such a great tap for information.
More of a talker than your mom.
Of course, the whiskey helped.
I could get him to go on for hours
about how you protected your mom and little Nate,
the things you said.
It's hard to watch a grown man cry.
Are you trying to make me feel sorry for him?
You should feel sorry
that he never got the chance to apologize.
He wanted to.
But we had to move fast.
"We..."
W-what?
"Move fast"?
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Michael.
After a while, the old man got suspicious
about my interest in you.
He didn't know who I was
or the effect I had on you, but he...
Had started snooping in places that he shouldn't,
and a heart attack had to arranged.
You killed him.
Ironic, really.
All those years, how many times did you wish he were dead?
We did it for you.
You're welcome, Michael.
Anything from Sam yet?
Michael, are you sure you're okay?
You have been in a daze all morning.
I'm fine. I'm just --
working with Anson was draining.
Don't let him get to you.
He's just trying to tie you in knots.
It doesn't matter.
Sam called in every FBI favor
to meet with the deputy director.
And with any luck, he's solving our Anson problem right now.
Well, let's hope he brought plenty of his trademark charm.
Well, I don't care for it,
but some people seem to enjoy it.
Sam, how'd it go?
It didn't. It got canceled.
And now I'm being investigated as a possible Russian Agent.
What? When Ivan filed his report
claiming Beatriz was a Russian Agent,
someone must have convinced him to include you, too.
Yeah, take a wild guess who did the convincing.
His name rhymes with Charles Manson.
I'll call you back.
Your friend left you a note.
"It was great working with you.
"Your need to help Beatriz
"provided a great opportunity to neutralize Sam.
"And we finally got to talk about daddy.
Drinks are on me."
Anson got there first.
We just delivered a couple hundred million dollars
to a very dangerous man.
I should disappear.
You'll be able to bring Anson down.
And you'd keep running for the rest of your life.
Not after all this. I am not losing you, Fi.
What do we do?
I don't know.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
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