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Zum wohl!
Bitte, meine freunde.
In memory of the not-so-dearly departed Herr Spielman...
No, no.
...who undercut and robbed you on the supply routes through Graz,
I'll double what he was spending
and handle the packaging and transit myself.
Donald!
There you are.
I told you I'd pick you up at the airport.
Oh. The cab ride must have cost you a fortune.
Guten tag, alles.
Oh, is this...
Donald is my man at the state department.
He's been extremely helpful in all our endeavors here.
But the poor fellow
has to walk a terrible tightrope every single day.
I feel obliged to get him drunk once in a while,
- so I invited him down to celebrate. - Yeah!
Celebrate what, Red?
Free trade, Donald. Free trade.
Freihandel.
Honestly, this damn chip. What the hell do you want?
- Keen needs you. - Then why isn't she here?
You mean why didn't she fly to Munich on 10 minutes' notice?
You made the trip.
She's been detained.
By whom?
The situation's above my security clearance.
I was just given the job of locating you.
No, you said she's been detained. Is she in danger?
There's a jet on the tarmac at Munich International.
My plane's faster.
I just can't believe he's gone.
I'm never gonna hear him say my name.
Or smell that old aftershave.
It's different with you because you...
you can trace your life up to this moment, you know?
Mm-hmm.
You have reliable records and...
- You had your dad. - Yeah.
Do you want me in here right now?
I love you.
Watch the time. You got work in a little bit.
It's all right.
Donald, what the hell are you doing?
Taking you into protective custody.
Where's Agent Keen?
I lied to you, Red. You must be slipping.
I must be.
Everybody, out.
Why am I in handcuffs, Harold?
You're violating our arrangement.
There's an imminent threat to your life.
That condition is a constant.
We have credible intelligence
that you're being targeted for assassination.
My contacts at the CIA were sitting on an Egyptian sleeper cell.
They intercepted communication
between them and an informant called Wells.
Hilton Wells?
- You obviously know him. - You obviously don't.
Hilton Wells doesn't speak with the Egyptians.
He hasn't since he aligned himself with Mubarak
during the Arab Spring.
I can show you the transcripts.
With all due respect, if the intel were worth having, then I would have it.
There's a price on your head.
There's a running price on my head, Agent Ressler.
Anslo Garrick?
Listen to me.
If this intel was disseminated, it was done so directly to you.
It's canned,
which means Anslo Garrick intends to attack this facility.
Oh, you think he wanted us to bring you here?
What do I think?
I think we have a songbird in our midst,
and until I find out who's singing, I don't trust anyone
because someone helped to bring him here.
- To a black site. - Why?
Because I'm asymmetrical.
I don't need visas, passports, travel documents.
Give me a bug-out bag and 30 seconds,
and I'm on my way to anywhere in the world.
Garrick knows this.
He needs me contained, landlocked.
So he fed you phony intel to trigger your security protocol
and now you've done exactly as he wished.
He got you to bring me here
so that he could attack this facility.
He doesn't even know this place exists.
All he does is extract people from places that don't exist,
places exactly like this.
Garrick exfils high-level detainees always by considerable force.
Park the truck near the elevator bank.
He liberated Mahmoud Al Azok
from an Alcatraz-like CIA black site in the Bering Sea.
That was shining path, a splinter cell.
Azok has ties to a Caribbean money launderer.
No. That was Garrick,
paid by that same Peruvian money launderer
to make it appear as though shining path broke him out.
It was Garrick.
Whoa. No, no, no. Whoa, whoa.
You can't be here! Hey! Tell him he can't be here!
Now open the compactor.
He almost exclusively works with a group of heavily armed,
highly skilled mercenaries
who call themselves The Wild Bunch...
Former flag wavers made over in Frankenstein-like fashion
into bloodless, country-less killers.
Garrick is not a precision instrument.
He's a blunt-force object...
and seemingly immune to bullets.
I can attest to this first-hand
having put one in his head years ago at point-blank range.
Harold, this building is about to be breached.
They're in.
Elevator's disabled. Transmission's jammed.
We have takedown.
Hello?
Initiate full facility lockdown.
Sync and corrected by Elderfel www.addic7ed.com
Telecom is dead. I have no signal.
Get me out of these damn cuffs.
You're going into the box until the threat is neutralized.
Neutralized? Harold, do not make a stand.
Get your people the hell out of here.
All non-essential and unarmed personnel
evacuate via southeast stairwells.
Carry code Oriole Baton 338.
Anyone not presenting this code upon egress will be detained.
Hello?
Hello?!
Relay, relay, relay, seize state.
Assume all comm lines compromised.
Rally point 14-14-6.
The armory?
We need to get to our own weapons before they do.
This is director Cooper authorizing a full data burn.
Destroy onsite drives and terminals
and burst transmit all backup data to the central servers at Quantico.
I don't think you appreciate the sheer firepower
- that has entered this building. - Shut up.
He means to take me, Agent Ressler,
and kill anyone in his way or in his wake.
This isn't about digging in. This is about escape.
Wait.
Why not let them have me, Donald?
I'll likely be tortured for weeks and left to rot
until they finally deign to put a bullet in my skull.
Wouldn't that please you?
You're an adjunct informant for the FBI, Reddington.
That means you're my responsibility.
That means I fight for your life
regardless of how badly I want to take it.
Aah!
Don't, Reddington.
Don't leave me unarmed.
Donald, you and I aren't done just yet.
Aaaah!
Aaah!
Hello, Red.
Aaah!
We're going up.
Red...
Red, did you really think there was a distance you could cover
or a hole deep enough that you could hide in?
There is nowhere in this world that I cannot reach you, Red.
Fortification be damned.
I heard you made yourself some sweet little immunity deal, Red.
I heard that you fitted the FBI with strings,
and now they hang upon your hip like a hatchet.
Not bad.
Prudent.
But they can't keep you safe from someone like me, Red,
someone who sat in blackness for five years...
Five years
thinking about the pain...
I was going to inflict on you while slowly breaking
your will, your body, and finally your mind.
That day is here, my friend.
And it will end with your screams,
as God is my witness.
Aram, can I get any kind of internal camera signal
or tap into our surveillance array?
It would have to be hardwired, sir. They've knocked out the grids.
What about the telecom signal? Could it be restored?
Same thing. Unfortunately, it would have to be hacked locally.
Where would you hack it?
Main generator room would give me the best chance.
- It has all the uplink terminals. - But the power's down.
Our backup generator should enable the uplink
and allow me to splice a separate signal from the telecom.
- Do you have a radio? - Yeah.
Good. Tune it to EMR-designation "Hatchling."
Understood?
Get to the main generator room. Kill anything that isn't FBI.
Go.
Closed comms. Closed comms.
Go to EMR-designation channel.
Codify, "Hatchling." Codify, "Hatchling."
Hatchling-5591-abstract.
- Keen? - I'm here, sir.
Do not attempt any form of ingress.
- Hostiles have the high ground. - I'm already inside.
- Have you been captured? Are you injured? - Neither.
- Where are you? - Barricaded inside the armory.
Ressler and Reddington are unaccounted for, presumed down.
What are you feeling in your extremities?
- What do you feel? - Not much.
My fingers are numb. My face is getting cold.
Shock is setting in.
How much blood have I lost?
More than a thimbleful.
- What about my leg? - Lay down. Lay down.
Donald, never let it be said that I valued
a Zegna Venticinque tie over a human life, even yours.
Take up a handful of your own tie.
This is gonna be hugely unpleasant and very painful.
Bite down.
All right?
Yeah.
Keep pressure on it. Just keep pressure on it.
I don't like his chances, Red.
That leg looks like minced beef.
All you have to do to save Agent Ressler's life
is come out, Red.
Don...
We never met in person, Don,
but if you'd done your job back in Brussels in '08,
I wouldn't be here now.
Agent Ressler here ran that little kick murder squad
tried to clip you in Waterloo Station, Red.
I gave him your train number, your itinerary.
All Little Donnie here had to do was supply the bullet, but no.
Bungled!
And now, as fate has a great fondness for moments like these,
here we are.
And it is you, Red,
that can spare or end Agent Ressler's life.
You know, Anslo, I'm looking at you,
and I got to say I'm really surprised.
With the access you now have to top-notch plastic surgeons,
why you haven't done something...
anything about that horrific scar.
I mean, how do you wake up to that
staring back at you in the mirror every morning?
But you know what? It's not the scar.
It's really the eye.
But, hey, lucky you.
I normally carried Hydra-Shok hollow points.
I was trying out a new series of center-fire wadcutters that week.
It's probably the only thing that saved your life, really...
Me switching ammo.
Think about that little irony now
every time you randomly find your reflection
or are reminded of that...
unfortunate thing I've done to your face.
Think about it.
You trashed a one-of-a-kind partnership.
We were never partners, Anslo.
You violated whatever trust I had in you.
So, naturally, I did what I always did...
And beat you.
And you did what you always did... Got beaten by me.
True to form, Anslo.
Why take time to think when it's so much easier to shoot?
This glass was developed by Darpa
for secure cover and housing in combat zones.
That .45 might as well be a spit straw.
Oh, good, Red.
I've brought a whole picnic basket to this party.
And, little pig, little pig, you are going to let me come in.
Okay, let's go.
Oh, calm, calm, calm.
Come on, come on, come on.
Use your training. Use your training.
Be fluid. Be fluid.
Okay. All right.
Oh, man.
Command down. Command down. Armory overrun.
Repeat, armory overrun.
Help! Please, help!
Help!
Can someone help me? Please, help!
Lower your gun to your side.
Now reach across your body with your right hand
and remove your tactical belt.
Any sudden or aggressive movements, and I will kill you.
Okay.
Let me see.
Oh, no.
We don't have enough explosives.
- What? - We don't have enough explosives,
not according to the specs we pulled up on this thing.
Tabletop to blue wolf.
Send a short chalk back to the armory.
We're a little light on bang here.
So you bring me back
every piece of explosive ordnance that they have.
Donald, I'm gonna quietly cross my fingers before I ask,
but what blood type are you?
B-negative.
And you thought we had nothing in common.
There's only 2% of us, you know?
- What are you doing? - You need a blood transfusion.
Or we're gonna have to open that door,
which will likely be the end of both of us.
Give me a gun. These bastards want to go. Let's go.
The concept of a last stand
sounds so heroically romantic, doesn't it, Donald?
But there's a good reason why we didn't see
what happened to Butch and Sundance.
Being riddled by bullets and left to rot
under a scorching Bolivian sky does not a sequel make.
And if you've surmised nothing about me by now, know this.
I'm gonna be around for the sequel.
You're really gonna do a field transfusion?
Oh, come now, Donald.
Think how much smarter you'll be afterwards.
Why the hell are you doing this?
It's pretty obvious I hate your guts,
and I can't imagine you hold a whole lot of warmth for me,
especially after hearing about Brussels.
I knew about Brussels.
Then why save me?
Because that's what you do when someone is dying in front of you.
Allies today, enemies tomorrow...
The world is a complex place,
further complicated by man's fickle nature.
Years ago, I saved a man's life
under a beautiful old cedar tree in Lebanon.
A month later, he tried to kill me in a hotel in Damascus.
I understood. Allegiances shift.
A month later...
I broke his neck with a shower caddy.
It's this job today, another one tomorrow.
That needle in your arm becomes the one in your neck.
It's just that fast.
Red.
Do you remember that Road Runner cartoon where the Coyote
makes the mountain of TNT and gunpowder barrels?
And blows himself sky-high?
Yes, Anslo. Is that what you're doing out there?
Is this to be mass suicide by explosion, I hope?
No. We'll be fine out here, Red.
But with these charges rigged to blow inward,
I can't say the same about you.
It's no matter.
I intend to thoroughly torture the hell out of whatever's left of you.
Oh, come on!
Play with me!
I'd give that leg up as a lost cause by now, wouldn't you?
If sepsis hasn't set in by now, Donnie, it will.
And then your body
will slowly start to poison its own blood supply.
Including that little keg tap
that Reddington's giving you right now.
Drip, drip, Don.
Drip, drip, drip.
Raines?
Respond now or I'm gonna shoot.
In three...two...one.
Tabletop to Chalk One, where's my bang?
Let's go. I've got a box to blow up.
Tell him you're on your way back.
Tell him anything other than that, and you're lying with your buddy.
Chalk One to Tabletop, we're on our way back now.
That's good.
Liz.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Agent Keen, it's me.
What the hell are you doing here?
I could ask you the same. Where did you come from?
I snuck in. What are you doing?
Trying to restore the telecom so we can call in the cavalry.
Where is everyone?
Captured.
Where's Red and Ressler?
I think Ressler's in bad shape.
Any idea who hit this facility?
Um, someone called Garrick.
He's disabled telecom, simplex, and duplex signals.
How long before you can restore the telecom?
I haven't been able to hack around it.
- They are jamming the signal internally. - How?
Uh, based on just the waveform readings and the wattage output,
it's, uh, something powerful, uh, but portable.
Where would they place it?
All the uplink and communication relays
are in the subfloor garage.
Could you reset the telecom if the jammers were disabled?
It would automatically reset, yeah.
Good.
You got a weapon?
Uh, yeah. Why?
'Cause...
we're gonna go find those jammers.
"We"?
Yes. You and I in the plural.
Uh, but I-I-I thought I'm waiting for the signal
so we can call the cavalry.
We are the cavalry. Give me your gun.
Um, I-I've only shot at paper.
Pretend they're paper.
Donald! Donald!
Feeling any wittier yet?
Any strange cravings for beluga caviar or Marcel Proust?
I know you don't think much of me,
but you don't get assigned a case file like yours
unless you pass muster.
May I ask you something
with the hope that you won't take offense?
You already know it's gonna offend me. Ask anyway.
What happened to Audrey Bidwell?
She left me.
You were engaged.
To her, yeah.
It was my engagement with you that ended that relationship.
Five years, I chased you.
Five years trying to make my name.
Look where it's gotten me.
Chalk Two to Tabletop, one dead, one down.
We have an enemy within.
We have a monkey wrench running around in here somewhere.
Find them.
How did you know about my ex?
I know a great many things about you, Donald.
Right.
It's the core of your business... Information.
Misinformation.
I don't know how you did it, Reddington.
Forsaking the flag, abandoning your country.
We become who we are.
We can't judge a book by its cover...
But you can by its first few chapters
and, most certainly, by its last.
So, what's it all about, then, the blacklist? Revenge?
Oh, revenge is too easy and over so quickly.
I would hope for more than that.
We're not gonna live through this.
I think we will.
How?
Have you ever sailed across an ocean, Donald?
No.
On a sailboat surrounded by sea with no land in sight?
Without even the possibility of sighting land for days to come?
To stand at the helm of your destiny...
I want that one more time.
I want to be in the Piazza del Campo in Siena,
to feel the surge as... 10 racehorses go thundering by.
I want another meal in Paris
at L'Ambroisie in the Place des Vosges.
I want another bottle of wine.
And then another.
I want the warmth of a woman in a cool set of sheets.
One more night of jazz at the vanguard.
I want to stand on summits and smoke Cubans
and feel the sun on my face for as long as I can.
Walk on the wall again.
Climb the tower. Ride the river.
Stare at the frescos.
I want to sit in the garden and read one more good book.
Most of all, I want to sleep.
I want to sleep like I slept when I was a boy.
Give me that.
Just...one time.
That's why I won't allow that punk out there
to get the best of me...
Let alone the last of me.
What do you want?
This isn't about what I want,
Assistant Director Cooper.
No.
What I've wanted, I've simply taken.
This is about what I need.
And what I need is access to that box.
Then let's start with what I need,
which is all of my people released right now.
You're not in charge, Harold.
No. But I am the man who can get you into that box.
And if I go in there
and start kneecapping your people one by one
until you give me what I want?
Then you're not getting Reddington.
No.
I'm going to bet someone other than you
can get me into that box.
Then place that bet.
Agent Keen.
Okay, I think we're cool.
There you go again, Anslo,
using a pistol in place of a brain.
You gonna put a bullet
in the head of the man who can hand you mine?
I think someone's trying to save your life.
Hardly.
I have little to no use for that man.
But before you shoot him,
be absolutely certain that I'm not outsmarting you.
We know how frequently that's happened in the past.
It would be a shame if in killing him
you denied yourself of the prize that you came here for.
Anslo!
How long do you think you can hold out here
before half of Quantico's graduating class
rappels down on top of you?
Red, this time you are quite simply mistaken.
The question really is, how long are you going to hold out?
Are you really going to let Agent Ressler there just expire?
Are you really going to let me put
Assistant Director Cooper's head all over that wall?
How many people are going to die here today, Reddington?
What's happening?
Your heart is pumping harder and harder,
trying to compensate for blood loss.
And that shotgun blast broke your leg.
I think it also partially ruptured your femoral artery.
Partially?
You would have bled out by now
if the hole were any bigger, but now I have to close it.
- Close it how? - By cauterizing it.
I'm gonna have to cut open your leg to get at the artery
and then sprinkle some combustible compound on it
- and ignite it. - Mm, mnh-mnh.
Mnh-mnh.
Donald, if you don't tell them how to open that door,
I have to do this, or you will die.
Then do it.
Grab ahold of the bench back there and don't let go.
I'm gonna cut as fast as I can,
but I can't have you trying to stop me once I start, okay?
Yeah.
This is gonna hurt.
Aaaaah!
Hold still, Donald. This will be over in a second.
How many of these things would they need
to scramble the telecom signal?
Uh, several. But just disabling two should be enough
for the uplink to reset and re-establish a signal.
Just... It won't be anywhere near full strength.
Cellular?
You might have one bar.
It's not enough.
This will be faster if we split up.
And scarier.
But yeah.
Faster, right. Sure.
Okay.
10 seconds, Red.
Wait.
- 10...9... - Harold! Open the box now!
- 8... - Give him the code!
No.
- Anslo, my people can help you. - 6...
- Cooper can get you in here. - 5...
- Put that gun to his head. - 4...3...
- For once in your life, stop and think... - 2...1.
Hello, love.
Threat is down. Repeat, the threat is down.
Red, I don't have to explain what happens now, do I?
Down.
Would you prefer that I did the countdown?
Because I wasn't that keen, frankly.
You open the box, or Dembe dies.
Harold, tell him.
Wait. Ressler knows the code.
Wait is over, Red. People are dying now.
Ressler. Ressler!
- Raymond. - Ressler!
- Raymond!
Ours is a friendship forged once in this life...
and again in the next.
Goodbye, my brother.
Harold, open this box.
I'll give you anything.
Stay on your knees.
Well, I'm gonna kill him now, aren't I, Red?
Open the box!
Sync and corrected by Elderfel www.addic7ed.com
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