(Michael) My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy until...
[ Cellphone rings ]
Man: We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted.
[ Whistles ]
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.
[ Laughs ]
A trigger-happy 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.
...and a down-and-out spy you met along the way.
That's how we do it, people.
Bottom line -- as long as you're burned,
you're not going anywhere.
[ Whistles ] Michael: Put the weapon down.
[ Gunshot ]
Hands on your head!
Listen to me, Michael. Gray shot your brother.
He murdered Nate.
Fiona: Michael, what happened?
Card's dead, Fi. Now we need a way out of here.
There's a full tactical support team on-site,
and some heavy-hitter seems to be running the show.
We got them boxed in. Whatever it takes, I want it finished.
Fuller: We have Westen. Awaiting instructions.
Jesse: Stand down and let him go.
Please confirm stand-down.
Riley: Confirmed.
All units stand down.
I'll never stop, Westen.
I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth if I have to.
Then I'll see you there.
When you're a fugitive,
it's tempting to flee the country
and worry about the details later.
But it's also a great way to get caught.
Since most countries now require biometric I.D.s,
the first step in getting out of town
is getting good documents.
[ Camera shutter clicking ]
You can't just go somewhere new.
You need to be someone new when you get there.
Randy Weems?
What the hell kind of name is that?
What happened to Chuck Finley? That's my lucky name.
Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Weems,
but my I.D. guy doesn't take requests.
Oh, crap. Well, just stick with "Sam," will you?
Don't be calling me Randy until we leave.
Speaking of leaving,
shouldn't Elsa be here with the supplies already?
Michael and Jesse are almost done with the radio.
Don't worry. She'll be here.
I just gave her a few extra things to pick up for me.
She probably just got stuck shopping.
"A few extra things"? I thought we agreed --
Listen, sister, if I'm gonna be living in a hut
in the Dominican Republic,
I at least need a decent bottle of scotch.
[ Horn honks ]
I believe that's the sound of my scotch arriving.
Hey, beautiful.
Thanks for coming.
I'm sorry it took so long. There was construction.
It slowed everything down.
Construction? Where?
At the entrance to the marina.
What? Is --
is there a problem?
There's a reason fugitives are so paranoid.
When you're on the run,
even the smallest change in your environment
can put you on high alert.
But, then again, sometimes being paranoid pays off.
Sam: Damn it! That's an earpiece!
See, this is bad. Those are agency guys.
We're blown.
Fiona: Yep, that's a gun.
My I.D. guy -- he was acting all jumpy.
Kept asking if he could deliver the passports himself.
I should have known.
They'll start searching as soon as they block the marina.
We got to go now.
Well, we aren't getting out of here by sea.
Coast Guard is incoming.
Fi, get Mike and Jesse.
I'm on it.
Elsa -- [ Sighs ]
Elsa, I got to ask you something that I don't want to ask you.
Can we have your car?
Of course.
What -- what happens now?
Once we bust out of here,
that CIA team is gonna be all over you,
so just...tell them that we stole your car.
And just tell them that...
that you don't know me anymore, okay?
Can you -- can you tell them that?
[ Sighs ]
I'm sorry, Elsa, but it's just not safe.
I mean, they're gonna be all over us, so --
I will try and figure something out, okay?
I promise you.
Coast Guard's almost on top of us, Sam.
Sam, we got to go.
Fine, Mike. Just start the car.
Bye, sweetheart.
[ Engine turns over ]
[ Sighs ]
Stay beautiful.
I'm sorry, Sam.
I don't want to hear it, Mike. Just drive.
[ Tires squeal ]
Mike, the window's closing up there!
I see it! I see it! Just hold on!
CIA Agent: It's them!
[ Gunshots ]
Jesse: Mike, you're not gonna make it!
[ Tires screech ]
[ Gunshots ]
Hold your fire! Hold your fire!
[ Tires screech ]
They're gone.
Burn Notice 6x14 Down & Out Original Air Date on November 29, 2012
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Mike: Looks like we're clear for now,
but we can't stay here too long.
Sam.
Michael, give him a minute.
Okay, so, those fake I.D.s...
Worthless.
Wonderful.
Got another I.D. guy?
[ Sighs ] None that I trust -- not now.
There's a passport office up in Boca.
We could try to break in --
Mike, come on.
That's a crappy idea, and you know it.
Riley's gonna be expecting us to do exactly that.
Now, I think I know a guy -- he's a friend of Dixon's,
but... It's a long shot,
so if anybody else has a better idea, let's hear it.
Okay, then.
Even if you evade the FBI, ATF, and DEA,
a life of crime is tough to explain to the IRS.
That's why many career criminals have a day job.
It gives them a cover I.D., access to equipment,
and a real W-2.
It also makes them easier to find
if they won't answer your calls.
[ Keyboard clacking ]
Hey, buddy.
Aw, Sam! What are you doing here?
Good to see you, too, buddy.
[ Scoffs ] This is my work!
And I'm not your buddy.
Oh, come on, Dixon. After all we've been through?
Didn't I get you a cargo plane last time I saw you?
Oh, yeah. That was easy to sell.
I just put it on Craigslist
and said, "ignore the bullet holes."
Mm-hmm. Just came by 'cause I need a little favor.
None of your favors are little.
Okay, you know what? I'm done flirting. I'm not in the mood.
I got to get in touch with that guy you told me about,
the smuggler -- Schmidt was his name.
The guy you said could move anything or anybody.
Why do I tell you things? Why?
'Cause I think deep down, you like me.
No. No, that's not it.
Okay, look, the point is, we got to get out of town
with fresh I.D.s, okay --
someplace warm, with decent beer.
That's why we need Schmidt.
W-well, I'm sorry. Your timing sucks, okay?
Schmidt's in hiding. He's in some sort of trouble.
No cell, no e-mail, no nothing.
You know, it's funny -- I bet the guy
who builds his computer systems could find him.
Say, wasn't that you, Dixon?
Even if I could -- and I'm not saying that I can --
there is zero chance that he'll talk to you.
All right, Dixon. Thanks a lot.
You're welcome. Really appreciate it.
But, you know, before I go, I thought I would just say
I think it's great that a company like this
would hire a convicted hacker!
Should I go on? Shh.
How about the Navy, when they almost court-martialed you
for stealing the skipper's porn collection?
Should I go on? No! Shut up! Shut up! Please!
Take us to Schmidt, I won't say another word.
[ Sighs ]
Come on, Dixon. I'm in a hurry.
Don't forget your Oreos.
Counterintelligence, broadly speaking,
is the practice of spying on someone who's spying on you.
With a little patience,
you can learn a surprising amount about your enemies
just by watching their own surveillance teams.
It starts with carefully observing
who's at what location,
when they're there, and how often.
Once you have a list of possible candidates,
you cross-reference with people from other surveillance sites.
If anybody shows up more than once,
it's a safe bet it's not just a coincidence.
It's a lot easier to keep your secrets
if you know who's after them.
Gotcha.
Why can't we just knock on the door?
You don't know Calvin Schmidt.
He's not gonna open the door for five people with guns.
It's okay.
So I-I have to be your pretend girlfriend?
Come on.
[ Groans ]
Here we go.
[ Exhales ]
Kiss for luck?
Never mind.
What the hell are you doing here?
Hi, Calvin. It's really --
Was I -- was I unclear the last time we spoke?
I gave you a fat stack of cash,
and I told you to forget my address.
Yes, I know.
But look, look -- I want you to meet my girlfriend.
She needs your help.
She's desperate to get out of the country as fast as possible.
And since you're an expert in that kind of thing --
You -- your girlfriend?
It's a new thing.
Well, if she's your girlfriend, where did you meet?
Both of you at the same time. One, two, three, go!
A f-friend's house. I-- the Internet.
Uh, my friend's Internet house.
I hope you get eye cancer, Dixon.
W-w-w-w-w-wait. You don't understand.
No, I-I understand well enough, okay?
And so spare me the sob story,
spare me the desperate tale of woe.
Well, I-I don't have a desperate tale of woe.
But I do have three very well-armed friends.
That would be us.
Michael: You might want to invite us in.
Dixon, you slack-jawed, traitorous nimrod! I --
that's your spy friend!
I-I tell you I'm going off the grid,
and you bring the most radioactive man in Miami
to my door?!
Are you gonna invite us in,
or do I have to start shooting?
God. Fine. Yes. Come in.
Quickly! Don't saunter!
Do-- you're -- you're sauntering on purpose. Thank you.
No! You're not --
you are repellent to me, Dixon,
and are no longer welcome in my home.
Wait! Wait, wait! But they drove!
Good. Oh!
Well, what do you want?
We need to get out of the country.
We're told you're one of the best.
[ Chuckling ] One of the best?
I-I could smuggle the Queen of England
wearing the crown jewels as a bikini
past border security, and nobody would bat an eye.
We need the whole package --
new identities in a foreign country
and safe passage there.
Can you do that?
Normally, yes.
Yes, I-I smuggle people, I smuggle items,
I smuggle goods.
Anything smuggle-able, I smuggle, all right?
But seeing as you guys are these lights-out super-spies,
maybe you've noticed the triple-locked door,
the arsenal, the many empty food containers.
Hmm?
Did you maybe ask yourselves,
do I look like I'm in a position to help anybody?!
Okay. Why don't you just tell us why you're in hiding?
Let's start there.
How about I don't? How about you leave?
All you need to know is there's a big, scary guy
who wants to grind me into dust.
Mr Schmidt, there are at least a half a dozen things in here
that I could use to blow you into little-bitty pieces,
and I would use the dust to powder my nose.
[ Chuckling nervously ] Look, we --
wow, we got off on a bad foot here, didn't we?
How about a drink, hey? Who wants a drink?
I'll take a little something.
Can you do a mojito?
Y-yes. You know what?
Actually, I have, uh, some fresh...mint.
Oh. Here you go.
Flashbang grenades may not be deadly,
but if one goes off nearby, it can cause
temporary blindness and hearing loss.
[ High-pitched ringing ]
The combination of those effects
is enough to stun even the most hardened soldier.
But if you can take cover in time to protect your vision,
you can still stay in the fight.
You may not be able to hear your enemy,
but if you can see him well enough to pursue him,
then it's just a matter
of not letting the ringing in your ears distract you...
Hey, hey, hey! Back off! Back off!
...from taking him down.
Let's try this again.
Whatever problem you have, we will help you with,
but we need to get out of the country,
and you will help us.
Do you understand?
Yes, I do.
You guys don't get it, alright.
I-I-I'm, like, marked for death.
[ Chuckles ] How stupid are you gonna feel
if you come to me for help and I wind up dead?
Just tell us about your situation.
Okay.
A year ago, this Syrian woman comes to me --
she's married to some jerk smacking her around,
and, you know, I-I kind of have a thing against that.
Oh. Well, he's not a complete bastard.
I set her up with a new name, new life -- the whole deal.
[ Scoffs ]
Turns out she's married to Jabbar Hamady,
ex-Syrian intelligence services.
Now he's a big gun runner
and has a huge problem letting go.
And he came after you?
Yeah. He's got a fatwa against me.
W-w-when -- when he's not selling machine guns
to toddlers in Sierra Leone,
he's out looking for his ex-wife,
so I went into hiding.
[ Chuckling ] Welcome to "hiding."
Well, why don't you run your business from here?
Oh, so, suddenly you're an expert
on how to run my business, Sinéad o'Handsome?
He paid off some of my workers.
Every time I try to move something,
they show up with guns.
And if he were removed from the picture?
If you guys get rid of Jabbar Hamady,
I'll give you guys new identities, passports,
a free trip to wherever you want to go.
Okay. Just give us what you got on the guy.
One more thing, though --
when we get the new names, mine is Chuck Finley.
Okay? That's non-negotiable.
You got it, Chuck.
Taking a break?
Yes, as a matter of fact.
I figure if we're really gonna be on the run,
this might be the last chance I have
to get drunk in a jacuzzi,
so...I'm living it up while I can.
What do you think?
Well, in addition to wife-beating,
the guy's hobbies seem to be torture and war crimes.
Which means if we can find Jabbar,
we can let the authorities take care of it.
Well, don't forget that we're on the run, too,
so, you know, not like we're gonna run around Miami
asking people if they've seen a pissed-off Syrian.
Schmidt said he had one remaining warehouse, right?
Mm-hmm.
What are you thinking?
If we could get Jabbar to send his men there,
I might be able to get to him.
Yeah, or you could just get shot.
Mike, come on -- too dangerous.
Sam, this whole thing with...losing Elsa, I just...
Yeah, well, doing something insanely dangerous
won't fix what happened with me and Elsa.
I don't see another way.
All right, then.
Let's go do something insanely dangerous.
Jesse: [ Whistles ] This place is like a black market Costco in here.
Yeah, well, I'm kind of a big deal.
That's why I'm able to smuggle super-spies
to other countries.
So, guys, what's the plan?
All right. Here's how it works.
Every time you make a delivery from a warehouse,
Jabbar finds out, right?
Yeah -- come looking for me, and then they steal everything.
Okay, so, now you're gonna call in a pickup from this warehouse.
Only this time, Jabbar's guys are gonna find
a very unhappy ex-employee of yours here.
E-e-ex-employee? What --
That's what Mike and Fi are setting up in your office.
Mike gets the guys to take him to Jabbar.
We sic the FBI on him -- problem solved.
Oh, problem solved.
You guys just skipped over the part
where I lose everything I own!
Shut up. Listen, Mike's doing the hard part here, okay?
All you have to do is make the call,
wait for Jabbar's guys to show up, and run like hell.
[ Cellphone beeps ] I can't believe I'm even considering this.
I hate this plan. This is a horrible plan.
Push the button.
I hate this idea! This is a stupid --
Looks like Schmidt doesn't much like our plan.
He'll come around. Let's get this over with.
Well, just how tortured do you want to look?
Think an angry Schmidt with a car battery.
Electroshock torture is a messy business.
While most of the damage is internal,
the electric arc that's created
can burn anywhere from 2,500 to 5,000 degrees.
If you want to look like you've been tortured,
but aren't willing to hook yourself up to a car battery,
a curling iron can create similar burns
without the risk of stopping your heart.
[ Sizzling ] [ Grunts ]
[ Groans ]
[ Doorbell rings ]
Just a minute!
Surveillance doesn't always have to be covert to be useful.
Sometimes the best way into a target's life
is through the front door.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Westen.
I'm Olivia Riley, CIA.
I'm in charge of the Agency's investigation of your son.
May I have a moment of your time?
Of course. Please, come in.
There are advantages to being obvious
when the goal is less about information-gathering
and more about intimidation.
You, uh, really should have called first.
I could have been out.
There's nothing more jarring than realizing
that your every move is being watched.
I, uh, noticed that, uh,
you stopped by your son's old place yesterday
to take some photos.
Our perimeter cameras spotted a silver Camry.
That was you, wasn't it?
It was.
I was taking pictures for the insurance company
in case anybody needed anything.
Interesting.
So you think Michael's going to come back
and file an insurance claim?
I assume you realize
your son's in an enormous amount of trouble.
He shot and killed a CIA officer.
If you're helping him in any way,
that constitutes a federal crime.
I'm aware, and I'd like to help you, Ms. Riley.
Anything I can do to get my son through this alive.
I, uh, wonder if, um, I could ask a favor of you.
I'd like you to sign this.
It affirms that you'll be cooperating fully
with our investigation.
And if you violate this agreement in any way,
you're looking at life in prison.
Do you have a pen?
Thank you.
[ Pen clicks ]
There you go.
Thank you.
Well, that's all I need for today.
And, uh, please --
do call if you hear anything.
Excuse me. Who are they?
Oh. Don't mind them.
They're just checking to see if your phone lines are working properly.
For your protection, of course.
Of course.
Oh.
We checked the inside of the house, as well.
Just making sure there's no place for anyone to hide.
Thanks for your time, Mrs. Westen.
No, no, thank you.
Bitch.
Jesse: How long is it gonna take for Jabbar's guys to get here?
I-I just -- I don't understand why I have to be here.
I mean, can't -- well, what if I wait outside --
I already explained this, okay?
Jabbar's guys need to think that they caught you by surprise
while you were working Mike over.
Oh, okay, fine!
Well, then why don't we wait closer to the exit?
Because if it looks like we planned our escape,
they'll know it was a setup, and Mike dies.
W-what if we die?! I mean, has anyone thought about that?!
Yes, which is why you need to stop talking!
Just get ready, 'cause at any moment, they're gonna show --
They're in the warehouse! Schmidt, get out here!
They caught us by surprise! Can we leave now?!
Dude, if we're gonna sell this, you got to put up a fight, okay?
Which means you need to shoot at them.
Shoot at them with your gun!
Yeah, I think they bought it.
There's too many of them! Let's get out of here!
Go, go!
[ Tires screech ]
[ Tires squeal ]
Spies will use whatever they can
to get behind enemy lines --
stealth, deception, and even capture.
A prisoner of war
can learn about enemy morale, supply, and location.
Of course, the first thing you have to do
is convince your enemies
you're worth more alive than dead.
Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'm unarmed.
Hey! Someone's here!
[ Middle eastern accent ] What is this? Who are you?!
My name is Brent Sodor.
I used to be on Schmidt's security team.
You work for Schmidt?!
Do I look like I'm still on the payroll?!
I was being tortured!
Please. Y-you're trying to find him, right?
Right? Am I right? Well, I can help you.
I'll tell you anything you want.
Just don't kill me. Please don't kill me.
Untie him.
We're taking him to Jabbar.
He lives for now.
[ Tires screech ]
Most intelligence agencies lack the resources
to set up safe houses all over the world,
which is why they depend on expat civilians
to lend their homes or businesses for missions abroad.
If you're a former Syrian intelligence officer,
the local Syrian restaurant
can make a handy base of operations --
and save you a few bucks on lunch.
[ Middle eastern accent ] Welcome, my friend.
Please -- please sit.
[ Grunts ]
You know who I am?
[ Panting ]
I have an idea.
You're the guy that's... trying to kill Schmidt.
Yeah. My name is Jabbar Hamady.
Mr. Schmidt has taken something that belongs to me.
So, my men told me a very interesting story
about finding you in the warehouse.
Tell me about this.
Yeah, my name's Brent Sodor,
and, like I told your men, I'm on Schmidt's security team.
He thought I was one of the guys
that was trying to sell him out to, uh...
Well, to you.
He did all this to you?
Yeah -- with jumper cables.
Tell me something, Mr...Sodor.
I have my sources at Mr. Schmidt's operation.
How come I never heard of you until now?
He hired me on the qt,
because he was always afraid of traitors.
And then you hacked the alarm system
I set up in the Tampa warehouse,
and then all of a sudden, I'm the traitor.
Sugar?
O-one sugar.
Just one?
Two.
Listen, Schmidt was a paycheck. I got no love for him.
I just want to go home.
[ Spoon clinks ]
And I can help you.
How can you do that?
You want to catch this guy, right?
I know where he lives.
[ Scoffing ] You know where he lives.
Nobody knows where he lives.
Except me.
I'm telling you, I was his secret weapon.
In fact, the only place I ever met him was at his house.
If you want to hit him, you got to hurry.
I just wish --
I just wish I could see that son of a bitch bleed.
Okay.
Give us his address. We'll go there.
[ Chuckling ] Hold on. Hold on.
How do I know once I give it to you,
you won't just kill me?
Why should I trust you?
Ohhh.
Mr. Sodor, if you help me,
I promise you, I'll repay the favor.
I'm a man of my word.
But, uh...
I lack patience.
And suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with trust.
Could you stop... loading your gun for a second?
Stop loading. Just stop loading.
Just want to make sure that I heard you correctly.
You're sending that psychopath here?!
Yeah, that's the whole idea.
Mike goes in, steers him to the house.
Jabbar comes here, attacks the place.
We call the cops on him.
W-why am I hearing about this part of the plan just now?
T-the part where my last remaining possession
gets chopped up by machine-gun fire
and then turned into a crime scene?!
Because we knew you'd get all whiny on us.
Whiny?!
Listen -- the good news is,
you don't have to part of the fireworks this time, okay?
Fi's gonna take you up the road to a nice little motel.
You sit tight there. We'll come and get you when we're done.
[ Knock on door ] It's Jesse.
Just-- just please try to be careful.
Some of this stuff is really valuable.
Yeah? Hope it's bulletproof.
Come on, Schmidt. Open up.
[ Clears throat ]
Come on, come on, come on.
Bad news, Sam.
When I was picking up rounds, I paid a neighborhood kid
to ride his bike by Maddy's house,
just to make sure everything was okay.
He said the garden rake's propped up against the garage.
She gave the meeting signal?
Why'd she give the meeting signal?
I don't know, Sam. It's a rake. It didn't come with subtitles.
If you think someone might be following you,
the temptation is to drive erratically.
It may force the tail to reveal itself,
but it also reveals you're onto them.
A better approach is to drive very conservatively.
Go below the speed limit and linger at stop signs.
You won't win any fans on the road,
but it'll help you lose your tail.
[ Horn honks ]
If they think you're simply an overcautious driver,
it'll catch them off guard...
[ Bell clanging ]
...when you suddenly take a risk.
[ Engine revs ]
[ Horns blaring ]
[ Tires screech ]
[ Clanging continues ]
Oh, thank -- thank God.
I was afraid you wouldn't make it.
Well, we, uh... we've been busy.
We got the signal late.
Yeah.
That's the problem with communicating by garden tools.
[ Chuckles ]
What's going on?
Olivia Riley paid me a visit.
She knows.
She knows I'm helping you, she knows I'm following them.
She knows everything.
And she bugged my house.
Are you sure?
Absolutely. They were all over the place.
And they weren't even that careful.
And she made very sure I was aware of it.
She probably wanted to goad you into making contact with us.
Yeah. They had someone follow me.
[ Chuckles ] I almost killed myself unloading the son of a bitch.
[ Sighs ]
So, Fi, what do I do?
I mean, she's getting closer,
and I don't know how much more we can meet like this.
[ Sighs ]
Well, I'll talk to Michael.
But in the meantime, if you need to reach us,
you leave the house and use this, okay?
It's a burner phone. It should be safe to use.
Wait. One more thing.
A long time ago, Michael disappeared,
and he never said goodbye.
Promise me you won't do that.
I promise.
[ Whimpers ]
Nothing here.
Anything on your side?
Jabbar rolls pretty heavy.
My guess is, when he comes, we're both gonna see him.
So, where do you think you're gonna go --
after this is all over?
I don't know.
I have no idea.
How about you?
I was thinking Antigua. Always wanted to go there.
Nope, nope. Nope, nope, nope. No.
I dated a girl from there once.
What? So the whole country's off-limits?
The whole West Indies is off-limits.
Well, who's this girl?
It's a long story.
If we ever make it out of the U.S. alive,
I'll tell it to you.
All kinds of craziness.
Good crazy?
No.
[ Cellphone rings ]
Is that Mike?
No, it's Schmidt.
[ Cellphone beeps ] Hey, Schmidt. What's up?
Schmidt: You have to help me! They're coming!
Okay... Schmidt, hang on.
What -- what's the problem? Is somebody at the motel?
[ Banging on door ] No, I'm not at the motel, okay?
I mean, I was at the motel.
Then I went back to my warehouse --
Wait a minute. What -- y-you went to the warehouse? Why?
Because I didn't think anybody would be here!
I thought that Jabbar and his men would be trying --
trying to kill me!
Look, I have millions invested in here!
[ Banging continues ] I was just trying to salvage something!
I thought they were gone,
and then a couple of guys came back.
How many? How many guys?
Three? Five? I don't know! Just get down here!
[ Gunshot, yelling ] That doesn't sound good, Sam.
I know.
When planning an escape, patience is key.
Someone without training
might jump at the first chance to strike,
but that's exactly the wrong time,
because that's when your enemy's most alert.
In fact, the best time to make your move
is after you've let plenty of other opportunities go by.
The other advantage of patience is it gives you a chance
to find out if the situation has changed.
[ Door opens ]
[ Man whimpering ]
What happened?
We were on our way to his house,
and my -- my men called.
He snuck into his warehouse.
He was hiding in his office, crying like a woman.
[ Groans ]
We got the pig.
Now you'll get to see him bleed.
I been waiting for so long.
It's been 10 months
since you helped my whore of a wife run away from me.
10 months.
Now I think... My waiting is done.
Look, I-I don't -- I don't know where she is, okay?
That's a lie.
No, l-listen, okay? Listen.
I made her a passport, and then I lost the paperwork,
'cause that was part of the deal.
I don't -- I don't even remember the name that I gave her!
Oh, I think you'll remember.
[ Whimpering, gasping ]
Today, you're gonna die, Mr. Schmidt.
Only question is how much you're gonna suffer.
[ Gasping ]
[ Screaming ]
This knife ain't hot enough.
When an operation goes seriously wrong,
you have to decide quickly whether to bail out
or keep pushing and try to salvage what you can.
Bailing out is less risky,
but when it means leaving someone behind to die,
sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and roll the dice.
Mr. Hamady, can I talk to you for a second?
A few hours ago, that bastard was gonna kill me,
but your men saved my life.
I owe you for that.
I think I can help you.
I don't need your help.
With all due respect, I think you do.
I was an interrogator for the Special Forces.
You're trying to find your wife?
I can help you do that.
Yeah?
What can you do that this cannot?
Trust me -- I know what I'm talking about.
You told him that he would die no matter what.
You start cutting him up,
he'll tell you every lie until he bleeds to death.
So what do you propose?
You ever heard of suxamethonium chloride?
It's a hypnotic sedative.
You pump Schmidt full of that,
he'll give you everything that you want.
I used to work with a medic.
He can get it for me.
I just need to call him.
I'll find your wife within the hour.
Bring him a phone.
I still say we should go look for them.
How?
All we know is Mike's somewhere in Miami
and Schmidt's either with him or dead.
We can't just sit here. They're out there somewhere.
[ Cellphone rings ] Hang on. Could be Mike.
[ Cellphone beeps ]
Is that you, brother?
Michael: Hey, Chuck, I need a favor.
I need some suxamethonium chloride
for an interrogation I'm doing
of my son-of-a-bitch boss.
Uh, Mikey, that's not a truth serum. That's a poison.
Did you want Schmidt to die?
Exactly. I think it's the only way we get what we want here.
Uh, Mike, if you're doing what I think you're doing,
we're gonna need an ambulance.
Oh, you read my mind. How soon can you be here?
I'm at that Syrian restaurant on 12th and Bayshore.
How much time do we have?
An hour?
Sounds great.
[ Cellphone beeps ] I don't like the sound of that.
Uh, they must be in a tight spot,
because Mike's trying to get Schmidt out by faking his death.
But with this suxamethonium chloride,
five, six minutes in, you're dead for real.
Which is why we need an ambulance.
Only problem is, we don't have an ambulance.
Fi, when's the last time you talked to your EMT friend?
The guy with the dimples?
It's been an hour!
How much longer?
Not much longer.
Look, I need to get Schmidt into this freezer.
The drugs work better if he's cold.
Come on. We got one shot at this.
You want to do it right?
Well? Do you want to do this or not?
Get in!
What are you doing?!
Listen to me. Listen to me. We don't have a lot of time.
I can get you out of this,
but you have to do exactly as I say.
I'm going to inject you with a drug --
I already don't like this.
Shh, shh, shh!
When I do, you have to resist for a moment
and then tell me where you hid Jabbar's ex.
No! No! Do you know what he'll do to her if her finds her?!
If we pull this off,
the last thing he'll be worrying about is his ex-wife.
T-t-this -- this drug -- w-w-what does it do?
I don't think you want to know.
Hey, you know what?
I'm sick of being the last guy who knows what's going on!
Now, what does the drug do?
It's going to paralyze your entire body
and stop you from breathing.
I-I-I didn't need to know that.
You know what? I need to un-know that!
Your friend is here.
Chuck. Thanks for coming.
Yeah, well, I don't have a lot of time, so can we do this?
Hey, no, don't! Don't!
[ Grunts ]
Jabbar: Shut up. [ Coughs ]
Do it.
Okay, this is gonna sting a little at first,
but after a few seconds,
you're gonna be feeling much more cooperative.
No, stop it!
Help me hold him, please. Don't!
Okay, I'm giving him a low dose,
but he's gonna conk out any minute,
so you guys are gonna have to act fast.
There we go. [ Grunts ]
All right. Let's take this again.
Where's his ex-wife?
[ Panting ]
I-c-- I c-- I can't.
Just relax.
That's it.
Calm down.
Where did you hide her?
Cy-- Cyprus.
She's in Nicosia...
Under the name...
Yasmine...Sadek.
There's your answer.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Come with me. Let's confirm this.
[ Breathing erratically ]
Schmidt, how you doing?
Uh, not -- not -- n-not good. I'm -- I'm woozy.
C-can't -- can't feel my legs.
[ Wheezing ]
[ Speaking native language ]
You look nervous.
Nervous? No.
Well, you should be nervous,
because if he's lying --
if I learn that he's wasting my time --
Sam: Hey, guys! Come here! There's something wrong!
What? What's wrong? What's wrong with him?
I don't know. He must be having some kind of allergic
reaction to the drug.
[ Gasping ] I ca-- I ca-- I can't...breathe.
He's dead.
You killed him.
What if he was lying?!
He wasn't lying!
He gave you the answer! Ask your guy!
Rashad!
Rashad!!
What'd they say?
She's there. We're getting her exact location now.
Good.
Have my men dump him into the ocean.
Uh, okay, whoa. Whoa.
You can't just dump him. I'm involved now.
His body washes up on South Beach,
there's gonna be an investigation, an autopsy.
It won't take long before those drugs are traced back to me.
What do I care? It's not my problem.
Let me at least just take the body back to the hospital.
We'll dump it in the incinerator. Nobody will know.
But we got to move fast, 'cause security comes on at 4:00.
You got the information you needed.
Let us take care of this.
Mr. Hamady, you saved my life. It's the least I could do.
Fine. Take him.
[ Spits ]
I'm done here.
Jesse!
How long has it been? Four minutes.
Four minutes? We're cutting it pretty close.
Come on. Let's get out of here before Jabbar sees us.
[ Siren wailing ]
Fi, we need to get the biggest armed response
we can get at that place.
How big?
Very big.
Jabbar's guys are armed to the teeth
[ air hissing ] And aren't gonna go down without a fight.
I think I have an idea.
Remember that burner phone we gave your mom?
[ Cellphone rings ]
[ Cellphone beeps ]
Hello?
Mom, I don't have a lot of time.
I need you to say, in a loud, clear voice,
"1212 Bayshore Avenue. Yes, Michael, I can be there."
Are you sure? I don't know if anybody's told you --
I know Riley bugged the house. It's what I'm counting on.
I need to get the CIA to show up someplace fast.
Can you do that for me?
[ Loudly ] Yes, Michael.
1212 Bayshore Avenue. I can be there.
Thanks, Mom. I'll be in touch when I can.
M-Michael --
Jesse: We lost his pulse, Sam!
What? I can't find a pulse!
There's nothing, man. Nothing. Nothing. Do it! Do it!
[ Tires squeal ]
How you doing back there, Sam?
Not good, Mike. We think he was out too long.
[ Paddles whining ] Okay, clear. Yeah.
[ Thump ]
Come on, buddy.
Come on, buddy!
[ Paddles whining ] Clear.
[ Thump ]
Come on, Schmidt!
[ Paddles whining ] Come on, man! Wake up! Wake up!!
[ Thump ]
[ Gasps ]
Oh! There we go! There we go!
He's back, Mike! We got it!
[ Sighs ]
J-j-Jabbar -- Jabbar, is he --
Don't you worry about him.
We're wrapping his sorry ass up right now.
Was I -- was I dead?!
You really want to know?
No. No, I'm good. I'm good.
But...just a little -- yeah, you were a little dead.
You were dead.
Counterintelligence usually starts
as a subtle game of cat and mouse.
Your adversary pretends not to be watching you,
and you pretend not to notice,
but the longer it goes on, the more inevitable it becomes
that you'll end up in open warfare.
Afternoon, Mrs. Westen.
Oh. I didn't see you.
You know, an interesting thing happened to me yesterday.
I found a Syrian spy at a restaurant in downtown Miami.
Wow.
That must be some catch, huh?
Actually, it was more like a consolation prize.
I had heard somewhere that your son might be there.
Really?
Well...guess you can't believe everything you hear.
Let's stop pretending, shall we?
Next time you see your son --
and we both know there will be a next time --
you tell him I'm coming for him.
And if you keep helping him, I'm coming for you, too.
So... How soon can we leave?
Well, that depends.
Schmidt, if you can't do this --
I can do it, all right? Of course I can do it.
But the terms of the arrangement may have changed.
Fiona: No.
The deal was we get rid of Jabbar in exchange
for an all-expenses-paid trip to wherever we want to go.
Your words. Yeah. Yeah.
That was before I knew that your plan involved
Jabbar stealing everything I have left.
So you guys may have to foot some of the bill.
How much?
Depends on where you want to go.
Depends on how many of you want to go.
I mean, I-I-I-it's you two, uh, it's black George Clooney,
guy with the chin...
Right -- the four of us.
Michael, you might want to double-check your head count.
[ Sighs ]
Hey, Sam.
Everything all right?
You know, Mike, uh...
The last time I kissed my lady, she was crying.
I left her to be interrogated by the CIA
so we could escape.
I'm sorry.
We're getting the passports.
We need to know if you're coming.
Yeah, well, I got to think about that, Mike.
I'll let you know.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==