My name is Brian Finch.
I was your average 28-year-old screwup
until I took a pill called NZT.
Suddenly, I had access to every brain cell.
Every time he takes it, for the next 12 hours,
he basically becomes the smartest person in the world.
And that's why the FBI hired me.
My name's Brian Finch,
this is Rebecca Harris and we're with the FBI.
God, that sounds cool.
There's just one problem.
NZT will kill you,
unless you have this shot.
Now you can have as much NZT as you want with no side effects.
And why would you help me?
Let's just say I need somebody
in your position.
You describe to the FBI, or anyone,
about these shots...
I will let you die more painfully
and slowly than you can fathom.
So, Brian, you ready to become somebody who matters?
- Dennis? - Dad?
- Dennis. - Dad...
Brian, you saved my life.
As long as he keeps taking his pills...
does everything we tell him to do,
just the way we tell him to do it,
I think he'll make a full recovery.
Every so often, you take one of these shots...
and you can have as much NZT
as you want, with no side effects.
Somehow,
you get me a new liver.
There is something that you're not telling me.
You describe it to your parents, to anyone,
I will let you die more painfully and slowly
than you can fathom.
What are you doing around my dad?
Excuse me? Brian, right?
Don't pretend like we've never met.
We both know you work for him.
So why did he send you here?
Are you threatening my father?
I'm a nurse.
I'm a very good nurse, actually.
Why do you think Mr. Morra uses me?
I'm here to help your father and you.
That shot we gave you, it's not gonna last forever.
You're gonna need another one in about a month,
and if I'm here, we can take care of that more easily.
Why does Eddie Morra need a plant in the FBI?
What does he want me to do?
I have no idea.
I'm a nurse.
Relax, Brian.
This is a good thing.
And if Mr. Morra wants something from you,
he'll be in touch.
Of course I didn't trust her.
But I knew I couldn't find my way out of this mess
without the same pill that got me into it.
Now that they're letting me out into the field during the day,
the FBI wants me to use my commute
to study stuff they think I should know.
So Mike and Ike, my bodyguards,
started coming by every morning
to give me my pills...
Ah...
which always makes for
a very interesting subway ride.
Game theory holds that self-interest is reliably
the driving factor in human behavior...
That's Bach. That's Allemande.
It's a great piece of music.
Can I try?
Sure.
I think your "C" string is a little sharp.
Brian.
Shauna.
Wow, what has it been?
It's... almost three years.
Shauna.
The one that got away.
How have you been?
I've been good. I've been really good.
So, we talked and talked.
And if you ever do bump into the one that got away,
I highly recommend doing it while you're on NZT.
Oh!
By the time
she got off at her stop, I had her new number
and a promise that we'd catch up soon.
Good morning.
Oh, I am having an amazing day today.
- What's going on? - I'm not sure.
Naz just called an all-hands-on-deck.
Morning.
Most of you remember Special Agent Ray Dixon.
He was in charge of Forensic Accounting for the Bureau
until he retired last year.
His, uh, seminar on the paper trail was the toughest course
at Quantico.
I think he gave out one "A" in 15 years.
Early this morning, he was
walking through Bronx Park
when he was shot in the head by a high-powered rifle.
The NYPD think the shot came from the top of
an apartment building on the south side of the park.
I've told the NYPD
that CJC will augment their investigation.
Dixon was one of our own.
He served the Bureau for 30 years,
and he left it better than he found it.
Anything useful from the scene?
Very little. He was holding this Post-it
in his hand when he got shot.
After he retired,
Dixon took a job with an executive search firm.
The CEO of IDK Technologies is stepping down.
Dixon was researching half a dozen possible candidates
to replace him.
Last night, a virus was sent to Dixon's office computer
that wiped out everything.
So, that combined with the way he was killed...
They think Dixon found something compromising
about one of the potential candidates.
That person paid to have him taken out.
Boyle and Harris
are running point on this,
but I want you all to help them in any way
they need.
- I'm sorry. - Thank you.
I haven't seen him in years, but he was a good guy.
Can I ask a question?
So, Dixon's computer was wiped out,
but didn't he keep paper files?
There you go... Ray Dixon's files.
The man was a dedicated shredder.
Boyle and I are going to check the financials
of candidates for the CEO job,
while Cyber tries to trace the virus on Dixon's computer.
If you can make anything of this,
it'd be really helpful.
If I line up groups of letters
that are likely to be paired, I can make headway.
And after that, it's just grunt work.
Thankfully, I have access to a couple of grunts.
I'm not gonna lie, this is kind of awesome.
A little messy.
I almost lost my phone.
Okay.I have to know.
What happened?
What happened to you?
It's all good. You just seem so different.
Smiley-face emoji.
Just feel good lately.
Can't be down all the time, right?
Thumbs up emoji, thumbs up emoji.
But seriously, what happened to you?
Angry kitten face.
Wouldn't you like to know?
Smug devil face emoji.
If you're so curious,
let's meet for dinner and talk about it.
Hmm. No answer.
Too much, too soon?
Boyle and I are headed out to talk to Dixon's supervisor.
Seems like you're busy here.
Have you come up with any suspects?
Mm-hmm.
Jeffrey Vachs?
Ray Dixon had files on everyone
who was up for the CEO job at IDK Technologies.
But the biggest file was about Vachs.
Now, there's an e-mail exchange...
- Blue one. - Got it!
Between someone with the address
"utjv@gmail.com, and a woman with the handle "BlackOnyx."
"UTJV"... that's Jeffrey Vachs.
I'm not sure who BlackOnyx is yet.
Vachs was having an affair?
And ten months ago, he opened a new...
checking account?
Yellow.
Thank you.
Now, he made cash withdrawals
for $9,999 out of this account
eight separate times.
$9,999?
- Mmm-hmm. - He wanted to make sure the IRS
wasn't paying attention to what he was doing.
You think Dixon uncovered that Vachs was being blackmailed?
And when Vachs learned that he was about to be exposed,
he hired someone to take care of Dixon.
Let's hear what Vachs has to say.
All right, good work.
Ike! I thought we bonded.
Dinner sounds great!
Our old place at 9:00?
Yes!
Sorry. Uh, ran into my ex this morning. We vibed.
No big deal, but we've got a date at 9:00.
She thought you were pretty impressive
this morning, didn't she?
While you were on NZT?
Each pill lasts... 12 hours?
So if you're meeting up at 9:00...
How's she gonna like you when
you're just Brian Finch?
Synced and corrected by OussLP - www.addic7ed.com
I'm sorry. You think I'm being blackmailed?
It's an idea we got from a retired FBI Agent... Ray Dixon.
These are his files.
You're making regular payments to someone
with the email address "BlackOnyx," and we think
those withdrawals may be linked to Ray Dixon's murder.
If they're not, if you have a legitimate explanation for them,
we would love to hear it so we can move on.
So then, you're not just accusing me
of having an affair with one of my
summer interns.
Vachs just made a slip.
Nothing in those e-mails says the woman was his intern.
All I had to do was dig around in the company where he works.
I'm not saying anything else without a lawyer in the room.
Am I free to go?
So, he doesn't need to say anything.
He told us more than he meant to.
Yes, we heard it, too.
The intern... we're on it.
Yeah. I think her name's Sarah Braden.
She was tagged in a photo from the summer of 2013.
How do you know
this is the woman Vachs had the affair with?
Take a look at the locket on her necklace.
And just like that, boom,
I was back in the field.
Sarah Braden?
Miss Braden,
we're with the FBI.
- Is something wrong? - Do you know
a Jeffrey Vachs?
I'm sorry.
I don't know a Jeffrey Vachs.
Wh-Why?
We have definitive knowledge
that Jeffrey Vachs has been depositing
large sums of money into your bank account every month.
This little kid's Jeffrey Vachs' son.
Yeah, what's up, little man?
You got your father's eyes.
It's the same mutation.
It's called sectoral heterochromia.
I mean, we can take a paternity test if you want.
I'm not blackmailing Jeffrey.
He sends me money because he wants to.
He wants his son to be taken care of.
Even if he can't claim him publically.
That man Dixon,
he figured out the same thing you just did,
but he told me he was gonna drop it.
He said he didn't want to mess with a little kid.
Jeffrey's made mistakes.
But he's not a murderer.
Please don't tell his family about this.
We'll call you if we have any more questions.
Vachs was just taking care of his kid.
He didn't have motive to kill Ray Dixon.
Mike. Mike, Mike, Mike.
Mike the man.
How you doing, dude? They treating you okay here?
You do know Mike's not my real name, right?
Yeah, I do, but that's our thing.
Mike, Ike... these are the jokes, right?
So, listen, man.
I'm really burning the midnight oil tonight.
I mean, this is a big case; a lot of work to do.
The dispensary gives me one pill a day.
I know that, but there's got to be exceptions.
Even if you do have a date.
Ah! Well played, Mike.
You know what?
I would expect nothing less from a man of your talents.
Do people around here know how sharp you are?
'Cause I could help you with that, man.
They told me you'd try to get into my head.
That's a cynical way of putting it.
This could be the beginning of a very mutually
beneficial relationship...
You think this is a good detail?
Babysitting you?
You think that's why I went to Quantico?
Mm.
I took this job because they promised
that if I do it for a year,
I'll get a permanent placement in the CJC
as an investigator.
They gave me two rules...
one pill a day
and don't let you get hurt.
No way I'm breaking rule one.
What about rule number two?
One pill a day.
I'm not saying I'm an FBI agent, per se.
I mean, it's complicated.
But basically, uh, they noticed that I have aptitudes...
command of certain facts, if you will,
and decided to make me a consultant.
Okay. Uh... command of certain facts?
Yeah. Okay. Like, uh... for example,
um...
synthetic marijuana.
Seemingly innocuous but, actually,
it's very addictive.
That is a very interesting fact.
Actually, uh, I researched it for a segment at my work.
You did? Wow. You must love that.
You're so good at making the news...
not boring?
Thank you. That is the goal.
Yeah. I don't know though.
- Still no promotion, huh? - No. Um,
there is a segment producer that's supposed to leave in May,
and they say that the job is mine,
which is great, uh,
except my landlord is selling my building.
- And it was rent-controlled. - Your place is so amazing.
He can just sell it?
Yeah. I mean, he can tear it down...
He's getting rid of the whole building?
And I can't take the job if I can't stay in the city.
- Sorry. I don't mean to complain. - No.
No, no, no, that's fine. Um,
did you know this though? Um, there's, um,
one out-out of every 200 men in the world
that have a genetic marker that trace back to Genghis Khan?
That's the end of that fact.
Are you okay?
Um,
just... no, no, no. I mean,
this morning, you-you had this...
energy about you.
And tonight you kind of seem...
off.
Honestly...
I'm nervous about this whole thing.
I am, okay?
And I just...
You know what I want to say, what I should say...
is thank you.
- For what? - For being
a good person.
You stuck with me for a long time,
and I know it was hard.
I was really down.
I hung in there for so long
because it was great
at the beginning. And then something changed
for you, and you shut down.
And I kept waiting for you to come back.
And I stayed until it looked like you never would.
But then, this morning,
there you were.
So, NZT might have given me another chance
with Shauna, but what does it matter
if she's leaving New York?
I'm supposed to take you out to Long Island City.
Good morning to you, too, Mike.
As I'm sure you're curious, my date went okay last night.
The team and I went through all the candidates
for the IDK Technology job.
There were no red flags. Everyone was clean.
Also, the virus on Dixon's computer was a dead end.
So I decided to follow Dixon's own paper trail.
It's what he would have told me to do.
That one "A" he gave out, that was you, wasn't it?
He wrote my name on a white board and he left it there.
So everyone that took that seminar
knows me as a forensic accounting geek.
I found consistent withdrawals
from an ATM in this neighborhood,
but he lives ten miles away.
So I showed his picture around,
and two employees from the sandwich shop around the corner
pointed me to this storage unit.
The manager told me that someone matching his description
rents a locker unit here and pays cash.
This was Dixon's unit? It looks like a precinct.
Everything in here pertains
to a guy named Marco Ramos.
He is the top lieutenant
in one of the most dangerous cartels in Oaxaca.
Ray Dixon didn't get killed because of something he did
in his new job.
He got killed because he couldn't let go of his old one.
Hard to believe, last month I was a temp,
and now I'm chasing drug dealers.
The file on this guy is amazing.
It's like some kind of bad movie.
Marco Ramos was the wildest nephew of the head
of the Manos Sangriento cartel.
Legend holds that, rather than discipline his nephew,
Ramos' uncle sent him to America,
where Ramos made money hand over fist.
So much money, he didn't know what to do with it.
A consortium of the FBI and the New York Police Department
built a racketeering case against Ramos.
But just as they were gearing up to arrest him,
he fled.
That was six months ago. No one knows
where Ramos is, but his reign of terror continues.
No, please!
Throw him to the piranhas.
No! No!
Marco Ramos never fed anyone to piranhas.
Well, maybe not.
But he seems like a piranha guy to me.
The point is, Dixon was on a detail
that was looking for Ramos.
Dixon kept hunting,
and it looks like it got Dixon killed.
Yeah. In his files, Dixon was able to connect Ramos' cartel
to the execution of two prosecutors in New Jersey.
They were both killed with high-powered rifle shots,
same as Dixon.
And what do we have on the assassin?
They call him La Cebra in Mexico.
There's tons of rumors about the guy,
but there's no face, no description.
The only confirmation of his existence
is a partial print taken from a windowpane
at the sniper's nest of one of the assassinations.
Dixon was close. They wouldn't have killed him if he wasn't.
The NYPD still has a task force
that's looking for Ramos, so I say we link up with them.
We can reach out to them,
but I'd be surprised if we got anywhere.
Let's pull all our files on Ramos
and then reach out
to the old Ramos detail. But I want to make sure
you all understand this:
these are bad people,
and they've killed federal agents before.
Do you think they kill consultants?
- We'll pull the detail together. - Uh,
I'm gonna see what I can learn about La Cebra.
I mean, Ramos could be anywhere,
but we know La Cebra was in New York
two days ago.
I've got an idea, but I kind of need some floor space.
La Cebra killed a couple
of people here and a bunch of people in Mexico.
I spent the day looking into every single murder.
You spent the day building a model?
Uh, models. Plural.
You know what, it was time well spent, too.
I had a breakthrough.
See that red "X" on the ground?
That is where the police chief was assassinated.
And the only place that the shot lines up is...
the cathedral.
See this trajectory right here with this little guy?
In this spot, there's not enough room
in the cathedral for a sniper to lie down in a prone position,
so the only way he could take the shot is if he rested
his rifle on the ledge.
Now, the Mexican P.F. found a partial boot print there,
which means La Cebra
did not use a stool, which also means
the only way he could have gotten a clean shot
from over the ledge is
if he was at least six-foot, five-inches tall.
Whew.
That's your breakthrough?
Yeah.
The sniper was tall?
Yeah. Well, you-you can just run that through,
you know, the database.
The Tall Sniper Database.
That's not a thing, is it?
- No, it's not a thing. - No, of course.
I say we go see the NYPD task force in the morning.
They knew Dixon.
Maybe I can convince them to see their files.
All right, but... hey, just hold on a second.
'Cause, you know, I mean, it's the end of the day, right?
Beer o'clock?
Plus, um, you know,
wanted to kind of pick your brain about something?
Just girl-type stuff.
We're at the "relationship advice" stage?
Well, we kind of have to be.
The only people that know the details
of my life work at the FBI.
You are, by far, the most normal person at the FBI, so,
you're really the only person in the world
I can talk to about this stuff.
I'm guessing this is about your ex?
I'm pretty sure we can get it going again.
I'm also pretty sure
it's only because of NZT.
So...
I'm wondering, does she like me,
or does she like me on the drug?
They're the same guy.
Absolutely not. Not true.
NZT Brian
can do, oh,
way more stuff than regular Brian.
What?
No. There aren't two Brians.
There's you.
Sure, you can do more when you're on the pill,
but, either way...
it's your character.
The first time you took the pill, what did you do?
You helped your dad.
Do you think most people, if they could got their hands
on a pill that would let them do just about anything,
the first thing they would do would be for someone else?
If she's interested in you because of what you can do
instead of who you are,
then she isn't worth your time.
And if she isn't...
then you're worried about nothing.
Wow.
You're good at this.
I'll take a rain check on the beer.
- Hey! - Ugh! God.
- Don't you ever sleep in your own bed? - Geez, Mike.
Wizard of Oz was on last night.
All right! See?
This is a dope office.
Look at this. Look at the grit.
Shotgun shells lying around.
What's with the ski masks?
Sometimes they wear them when they're on raids.
It can be dangerous for cartels to see their faces.
You Harris?
- Mm. - Randy Moore.
Good to meet you.
This is our consultant, Brian Finch.
Look, my guys and I were sorry to hear about Dixon.
the last time
we cooperated with the FBI, one of our CI's got killed.
No one knows exactly what happened to your informant.
And we're not asking you to cooperate with the FBI.
It's just us. We just want to take a look at your files.
What are you two gonna find there that we can't?
Fresh eyes.
And Brian is a special resource.
How's that exactly?
Um...
Well, I have, among other things, perfect recall.
I can analyze data and patterns, and I can
use that analysis to solve complex problems or make
connections. Officer Rodriguez, right?
Yeah, that's right.
When you sit, you favor your right side.
Every time you put weight on your left butt cheek, you wince,
just a little bit.
Now, you don't have a pulled muscle, so, are you sore
from an injection?
Not to get too personal, but that's usually where
a doctor tells you to give yourself a testosterone shot.
Sergeant Moore,
you have three different kinds of bite marks
on your arms and hands
from three different kinds of dogs.
Little dogs. You are breeding a litter of puppies.
And if I had to guess from you're overall vibe,
I'd say pit bulls?
Dobermans.
Where'd you find him?
So, they let us into their files.
It was a lot to sort through, and it wasn't that helpful.
Until you are a fan of the winter games.
Whoa! Look. This is a picture from Jersey
right after one of those prosecutors got shot.
Okay. So?
So, this guy right there... he's from Finland.
Qualified for the winter games in 1998 for biathlon.
Excuse me?
This guy was Ramos' shooter?
Everyone assumes that La Cebra is Mexican
because of his nickname,
but really, it can be anyone who can take a great shot, like
a biathlete.
They ski, and they shoot.
"Johan Makinin."
Yeah, he's six foot, six, just like La Cebra.
He spent time in Mexico, emigrated here.
You on board with this?
We have La Cebra's fingerprint.
Makinin lists an address in Yorktown.
What's to lose?
Hello?
Johan Makinin?
Yes?
FBI. We'd like to ask you some questions.
_
Go! Go!
Mr. Makinin!
You ran like a rabbit, and now, you're gonna die like a snake.
Why would I say that?
That doesn't even make sense.
I don't know. It's cool?
Look, I'm not allowed
to go on the takedowns.
Let me imagine them the way I want, okay?
Anyway, you got him, right?
He ran.
And based on the stuff we found in his apartment,
he is definitely La Cebra.
But, Brian?
Makinin lost his shooting hand two years ago.
He may have killed people
for Marco Ramos, but there's no way he shot
Ray Dixon two days ago.
The prints on your left hand
match the ones we found in Jersey.
You had $4 million cash
stashed in your apartment,
and we can match you to the boot print
the P.F. found in Mexico City.
We know you're La Cebra.
The only question left is:
who's gonna put you in jail... the United States or Mexico?
If we were to extradite you, how long do you think you'd last
in a prison filled with soldiers from other cartels?
I help you find Ramos,
you try me here.
Is that your offer?
As you say,
I am the gunman Marco Ramos nicknamed La Cebra.
But, as you can see, I clearly have not
done any work for the man since this happened.
I used to custom-fit my bullets.
I was getting ready for a job,
working with some gunpowder...
REBECCA Why is Ramos trying to make it look
like you're still active?
The name inspires fear, and Ramos finds that useful.
But the truth is, I have no idea.
I haven't spoken to him since he fled.
- Where did he go? - I don't know.
He called me the night he left to say that he feared
he would soon be arrested.
He wanted to make a deal with your government
before that happened.
Describe the inner workings of his organization
in exchange for some kind
of leniency.
Ramos was going to betray the cartel?
Become a witness?
He promised he would give me warning,
time to leave the country,
but...
clearly, he changed his mind.
So you have no information to provide?
Enjoy Mexico.
Wait.
There are other things I know.
Well, I wasn't wrong.
You were wrong about La Cebra killing Dixon.
But it gave us good information.
Makinin gave us the phone number
that Ramos used to call him from,
and the shell company that he used to pay him from.
Yeah, it's called Tiovola.
Yeah, I'm gonna see where I can get with their financials,
and Rebecca's gonna take a look at the number.
Let me know what you need from our end.
You've already been a huge help. Thank you.
Sorry. I'm researching something else.
It's relationship stuff.
In fact, I won't bore you with the details.
Hey, you guys are just running down records, right?
You don't need me for a while.
Great.
Sergeant Moore?
Keep it real. Or don't.
Keep it however you want to keep it.
We've been after La Cebra for years.
Ramos didn't tell anyone his button man's real name.
That kid found him in a morning.
Yeah. Like I told you, Brian is a, um, unique
resource.
There we go.
Okay. Why are we looking
at the lobby in my building?
Um, well, I was thinking about your apartment problem.
And so, I decided to poke around a bit,
see if I could help out.
Like a lot of old buildings downtown,
yours wasn't always used for housing.
It used to be... a factory.
- Yeah, for textiles and stuff. - Yeah.
But did you know that a man by the name of Abraham Waltham
owned the factory? And he used to be
active in the Communist party?
- No. - Well, he did, and he was.
Who else was active in the Communist Party
back in those days? Artists.
Lots and lots of artists,
including one named Albert Harvey.
He wasn't super-famous, um,
but he was still very important in his day.
He did a mural for the WPA Federal Art Project
right before he was disgraced
because of his politics.
Now, Albert Harvey also did a favor for Waltham,
the guy that used to own your building.
He painted a mural on one of the walls,
but Waltham chickened out.
He painted over the mural
when Harvey got hauled in front of the HUAC...
the House Un-American Activities Committee.
And then...
everybody just kind of forgot about it.
Until I looked through Harvey's sketchbook this afternoon.
Um...
- what do you mean? - I mean
I called the art restoration lab at Columbia, we got one
of your neighbors to let us into your apartment building,
and we took an X-ray of the wall.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God,
it's gonna be beautiful when they uncover it.
Because that will make your building
a historical landmark, and they cannot tear it down.
Oh, my God!
This is amazing.
You're amazing.
It was one of those moments
when it felt like it was all right there.
What's wrong?
I want this.
Shauna, I do.
But I really don't want to mess it up again.
There are things about my life that I can't tell you about.
What can you tell me about?
thieving your clothes and imitating your...
which she also used, and I had to pull hair
- off of it once, which was just kind of the limit. - Oh, my God.
Why do you still live with this person?
This person who wants to be you so bad.
She makes such good brownies.
Is that why? Wait, what kind of brownies?
real stuff.
She asked about you a lot.
My mom loved you, Brian.
It was right then that I realized
that the pill wore off hours ago.
She was talking to Brian.
Just Brian.
- Sorry to interrupt. - Oh.
Harris needs you in the Bronx.
- All right. Yeah. - Brian?
This is, uh... this is Mike.
He's from my work, and he's got a key.
All right, all right. I got to change my shirt.
Look,
I'm sorry. I got to go. But I'll see you tonight.
The cell phone Ramos used to contact Makinin
sent its last backup to the cloud
on the same day that Ramos disappeared.
The last location its GPS recorded was that street corner.
Wasn't Ray Dixon killed near here?
- Weird, right? - Yeah.
Ramos disappears right around here,
and, six months later,
Ray Dixon is found murdered two blocks away?
I don't know. There's something we're missing.
There's some connection.
Something like that?
My God.
So you think this is Ramos' hideout?
Tiovola is the company that used to pay Johan Makinin
- to kill people for Ramos. - Mm-hmm.
I went through everything they hold.
Three years ago, they bought a condo on Ludlow Street.
Guess who lives there.
- Randy Moore. - That's right.
The NYPD task force was working with Ramos.
They're dirty.
So where the hell is Ramos now?
Oh, my God.
Well, looks like we found Marco Ramos.
None of the task force showed up this morning.
We think they're all on the run.
- How long have they been on the take? - As far as we can tell,
it started right after they formed the task force.
When Marco Ramos started to think about making a deal
with us, they knew their lives were on the line.
They killed him,
and they let the fact that people thought
he was still out there keep the money flowing.
Eventually, they would have let the body turn up
and taken credit for finding him.
One of the guys in Moore's task force
was a sniper with the Rangers.
Uh, we figure he mimicked La Cebra.
And when Dixon got too close, they killed him.
Moore's team couldn't find the real La Cebra though.
So when Brian did,
they knew we'd get to the truth soon and they ran.
they headed for non-extradition countries.
Once we track them,
we can make them stand trial in our jurisdiction.
So let's find them.
Quick question.
Is there a hotline we can call if we need a fighter jet?
Why exactly do we need fighter jets?
Moore and his guys need to get out of the country, right?
Fast and someplace we can't touch them.
Puno Airlines, Flight 232
from JFK to Caracas.
It's the only direct flight to Venezuela today,
and, as you can see, it's already en route.
Now, Venezuela's not technically a non-extradition country,
but the treaty never gets enforced.
It might as well be.
These guys are affiliated with a cartel.
There's no way they're gonna run
by jumping on a commercial flight.
They're not on the flight.
They're under it.
Now, this
is a charter plane, provided by the cartel.
And I'm betting they've got hot flight attendants,
fully reclining seats, warm nuts...
the whole deal. And if they wanted
to take this out of the country, they could take off
without a flight plan and turn off their transponder.
Problem is, they're still traceable by radar.
Unless...
They're flying so close to the bigger plane
that they look like one signal on the radar.
I got the idea from Miami Vice.
All right, come here. Look at Flight 232.
Now, nothing out of the ordinary, right?
Until you overlay
a real-time thermal loop from the National Weather Service's
satellite.
See that?
Okay, Flight 232 is traveling at the same speed
as every other jet in the sky, but there's
two times the amount of exhaust.
There are two planes up there.
We're on the clock.
I mean, that plane leaves U.S. airspace in about 30 minutes.
So...
how 'bout those fighter jets, huh?
A dramatic scene today,
as Air Force jets intercepted a plane
that was taking four rogue NYPD officers...
Uh, my day was awesome, man. Thanks for asking.
My night looks promising, too.
I was glad to see you and Shauna the other night.
Yeah. You know, I'm hoping you'll see a lot more of us.
Cheers.
Can I help you with something?
You absolutely can.
Quite a few things, in fact.
My name's Sands.
Just "Sands," huh? No first name or...
You can call me Mr. Sands, if you like.
It's fitting.
I'm your new boss.
I work for the FBI.
You were placed in the FBI.
You work for the same man I do.
Mr. Morra's a great man,
and he envisions great things for the world.
But to get there,
he needs men like me.
I'm gonna give you jobs to do, Brian.
What kind of jobs?
When I give you an assignment,
you will do it exactly the way I tell you to.
Otherwise I'll take steps to ensure
that you do it correctly the next time.
Is this about my dad?
That woman
said she was just a nurse.
She is a nurse, mate. She injects things.
She injects whatever I tell her to inject.
Besides,
who's to say it's your father I'd go after?
There is no one you call family or friends
who I can't touch.
It's a tough thing to get used to,
the idea that your life isn't yours anymore.
But you belong to Mr. Morra now, which means
you belong to me.
Enjoy your date with Shauna.
Brian.
What's wrong?
Brian?
- Brian? - Brian?
You haven't been picking up your phone.
One of Moore's guys, Rodriguez, he agreed to be a witness.
They're going away...
What's wrong?
Uh...
I had to, uh, break off things with Shauna.
She didn't take it very well.
I think I hurt her pretty bad.
What happened?
What, are we at the "relationship advice" stage?
Well, we kind of have to be.
I'm the only one you can talk to.
I just, um...
I don't really have control over my life right now.
Things are...
pretty complicated.
I get it.
Okay.
Beer o'clock?
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