- Great job, everybody. - Thank you for this.
Until the next one. Tom's coming up.
To Tom.
- LARTER: To Tom. - Who's Tom?
You're gonna love him.
He keeps going on about
this guy named Crowley
and some new world order that's set up
to hijack governments and take over the world.
I mean, real Manchurian Candidate shit.
I can get a location on Weir.
TECH: Shit, he's rerouting again.
- He's downloading comm data. - Cut him off!
Okay. Got it. We're leaving in five.
The plan didn't go as we'd hoped, sir.
BEN: If there's some secret explanation
as to why your friend turned, it's not in here.
What about the phone call?
BEN: 300 calls went
through the main switchboard
in that time frame.
And short of calling them all manually,
I don't know what else we can do.
WEIR: It's a simple play. Super simple.
Agent Jo Madi, FBI.
SCOTTISH MAN: Six figures for a bottle of booze
might seem a bit stiff,
but this is unicorn dram.
HAILEY: Remember how I told you I worked
for a developer in Chicago?
Well, I left out the part
where I stole money from him.
- How much? -$26 million as of Friday.
- [grunts] - HOMM: Is he gonna be okay?
BEN: What the fuck are you doing?
GAO: Don't know who the fuck you are.
BEN: Crowley.
Oh, shit.
It's all about control, sheeple.
BEN: He is so far ahead of us.
WEIR: We need to change the plan.
We need more people. We need to bring my team back in.
MADI: Uh, I've met most of Weir's people.
I can help you ID.
Team? What team?
- The ones who blew up? - Yeah.
[cork pops]
♪ ♪
[indistinct overlapping chatter]
What'd he say?
Not much. Classic.
Just that it's about Tom.
WEIR: Thanks, guys, for getting here on such short notice.
LARTER: So, who, exactly, is Tom?
Well, Tom is not a who. Tom is a what.
Tom is an op, a dropout.
You need us to disappear again?
How long? How deep?
Deep. Fake deaths. New identities.
- And I need it all in a week. - Really?
- I'm afraid so. - HAFIZ: [groans] Fuck.
Look, I know what a huge ask this is, okay?
But I need you to trust me.
Why not let us help?
Because the guy I'm going after this time
is really dangerous.
If this goes south,
he won't just take you out.
He'll take out everyone you care about.
Just signed a new lease.
Every time I find a new fuck buddy,
- something like this happens. - I just filled my wine fridge.
All of those wonderful-sounding things
you would not be able to enjoy if you were dead.
So, what's the plan?
Since the clock's ticking, I want to keep it simple.
An office explosion made to look like a gas leak.
Like that one we used to freak out that guy Goldman.
Exactly.
What about the intern? Shouldn't he be here?
- I think he's a plant. - What the fuck? Kyle's a plant?
- For who? - WEIR: Not sure yet. Maybe Madi.
Maybe the person that I'm worried about right now.
Either way, Kyle can't know about this,
but we can still use him.
Locked out, he'll make a perfect witness for the police.
Okay, so we send the task rat on an errand.
Pick up dinner somewhere far away.
He shows up to fire trucks and news vans.
WEIR: Yeah.
I'll show up right before the explosion
so that the security cameras can capture my shock and horror
for anyone else who's watching.
Mm, the cops.
Cops or anyone else.
Here are some broad outlines
and the paperwork for the new identities.
Why'd you let us spitball if you've already got
this whole thing figured out?
Because he's controlling, manipulative, anal...
"Detail oriented" is the term I prefer, but thank you.
You're welcome.
We should kill that Kyle kid.
[Weir scoffs]
Well, there's a surprise.
You do know that the Cold War's over, right?
He could be working for Crowley.
And he might just be an innocent FBI informant.
Yeah. And when in doubt... [clicks tongue]
You're getting too soft, Johnathan.
No good deed goes unpunished.
You know, I don't care how nostalgic you are
for the good old days of Noriega and Pinochet;
no unnecessary killing.
That's a second dig at my age.
You don't think I can handle him, do you? That's it.
- My plan, my rules. - Very well.
We've been preparing for this for a long time, Johnathan,
but, you know, sometimes reality turns out
to be quite different.
Are you sure you're ready?
I am.
And I quote you.
"As long as we stick to the plan,
everything will be fine."
♪ ♪
WOMAN [recording]: You have reached
Arda Analytics Human Resources.
No one is in the office right now,
but if you leave your name and--
[phone disconnects]
[dialing, line ringing]
MAN: Famous Jay's Pizza. Hello?
[dialing, line rings]
- WOMAN 2: This extension-- - [line ringing]
MAN 2: This is Key's Auto Insurance...
WOMAN 3: You've reached the office of Dr. Smith...
[indistinct voices overlapping, echoing]
- HAILEY: Knock, knock. - Yeah.
So, Homm wanted me to come get you, but...
- [dialing, line ringing] - ...first, I... I wanted to say
I'm sorry about yesterday.
I... I probably should have told you about...
What? Stealing $26 million?
Yeah, you probably should have told me.
[phone line beeps]
AUTOMATED VOICE: You have reached a number
that has been disconnected
or no longer in service.
Are you calling every one of those numbers?
I'm doing everything I can to figure out why Crowley
is three steps ahead of us.
Reached out to my team.
It might take 'em a little while to make contact.
In the meantime, I'm running through these numbers
trying to figure out who the last person was
to talk to Valence.
I know my dad doesn't think it's part of the plan...
Weir, Weir, Weir, Weir. It's okay.
It's okay. Relax.
You do not have to sell me on this.
Isn't it possible that this is more about
you losing your friend?
Trying to make sense of that?
In my world, that's a big deal.
So, if you wanted to talk about it,
you could talk to me.
For those of us who lie for a living,
our only connection to reality are the people
who really, really know us.
And for me, that was Valence, and only Valence.
So when we agreed to cut off all communications to do this,
I lost that.
And it's affected me.
No, I... I get it.
Growing up without a real home,
you look for it in other people.
And for you, Miles was home.
I-I know we haven't known each other for very long,
but I haven't had anyone like that in my life
for a long time, either.
Someone you can just be real with, you know?
Chicago, the money. I...
I'm actually glad that
I don't have to keep that secret anymore,
especially from you.
So, you know, I thought since I'm good with
you knowing that about me...
So you're saying I should just trust you now?
That's usually how it works, yeah.
Honestly, I don't know how anybody trusts anybody,
given all you've got to go on is someone else's word.
How about you try
to trust me just, I don't know,
90% more?
Ninety percent?
Jesus Christ, 75% is high.
Oh, fuck you. I think I deserve at least 80.
Okay, fine, 80%. You got yourself a deal.
What did Homm want?
Oh, Homm, shit. Uh, right. Yes.
He wants to-- He wants to show you something.
HOMM: The good news is all of the political donations and PACs
that Intraverse Media gives money to
are publicly available.
The bad news is that between Intraverse proper
and the 35 companies they own,
they donate to a total of 141 different candidates
and organizations: liberal, conservative, libertarian,
green, independent...
If there's one candidate they're getting behind,
it's going to take a while to ID them.
See, this is why we need more people.
No! No teams.
We stick to the plan.
[clears throat] And as I said,
we're, you know, we're playing catch-up;
that makes us vulnerable.
Jesus Christ, how much have you had?
I'm fine, and this is very, very good.
- Oh, boy. - BEN: All I'm saying is
we can't risk more exposure
by letting anybody else in.
How many more times do I have to say it?
We stick to the plan.
WEIR: In case you haven't noticed,
a lot has already gone sideways with the plan.
We can handle that.
It's not worth putting your friends
on the radar, is it? [groans]
What now?
Heartburn.
WEIR: Maybe lay off the Slim Jims.
Mind your own business.
Enough of that.
You know, technically, that bottle's mine.
Huh.
[phone line ringing]
You, uh, you calling your team again?
Yeah, Cara's perfect for this political shit.
I just gotta find her.
[imitating Ben]: You're not sticking to the plan.
CARA [on recording]: Hey, it's me. Leave a message.
This is Crystal Steam Cleaners.
We are offering a special in your area.
If you are interested, you can contact us at
1-888-WE-TIDY-U.
Thank you. Have a nice day.
♪ ♪
[soft grunt]
[phone beeping, line ringing]
- This is Anna. - MADI: Anna, you haven't called.
That means bad news?
- Morello said no. - Oh, shit.
He wants anything about Weir
to go through Rasche's office.
You're there, aren't you?
No.
Yes, you are. You're at the ex-wife's place.
Well, I need to know why she talked to Weir.
- A lot of divorced people talk. - No, I mean
"talk" talk.
He doesn't have anyone to confide in,
as far as I can tell.
She could know about more than just divorce stuff.
- I can feel it. - That's your gut.
But no Rasche, no go.
Ah, you're right, you're right.
I know you're right. Thank you.
Talk to you later.
CHLOE: How long are we gonna sit here?
Is this what you do all day? How boring.
I have an important job, Chloe, okay?
I do important things.
Can I have my phone?
No.
Give me that box.
Hi.
My daughter's raising money for her soccer team.
Or, well, I am.
So can I interest you in a bar of chocolate?
My son had to sell those things for band.
I ended up doing it for him, too.
Every time.
Right? I hate it.
I know.
Yeah, I'll take a few if it helps get you out of the hole.
- Still eight bucks each? - Yeah.
- Okay. - Thanks.
I'll get my checkbook.
I hate to ask, but can I use your bathroom?
Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. Of course.
Uh, just take your first left
- and then down the hall. - Mm.
Ooh, "Chateau Figeac." That's fancy.
I'm not a day drinker, I swear.
It's just from last night. I haven't cleaned up.
Oh, stop. I am a day drinker,
so no judgment here. [chuckles]
Date night with the hubby?
No, I'm not married. Just an old friend.
Oh, wow, even better.
But Figeac. That sounds so familiar.
Why do I know that name,
- Figeac? - You tell me.
Wine's not really my thing.
- Um, it was a gift. - Oh.
To the left...
- Down the hall. - Thank you.
♪ ♪
Here's everything I could find.
Are you certain that's everything?
Yes.
Any revelation from Mr. Gao
before his dip in the barrel?
Just one thing.
Figeac. Figeac.
[exhales]
Thank you so much for the bathroom, for the chocolates.
You're a lifesaver twice over.
- It's no problem, really. - And I'm calling you.
Like I said, I'm a day drinker,
so we can talk mom to mom over
- a couple glasses sometime. - Perfect.
- Sounds good. - Bye-bye.
See ya.
That took forever.
I told you I don't hear that tone,
so try something else.
Otherwise you're talking to a pile of rocks.
Shit.
[phone line ringing]
- This is Anna. - Uh, Anna, it's me again.
Uh, do me a favor and have EIS flag
any activity on Weir's employees' credit cards
and on any cell phone numbers we have for them.
Uh, there's no way Rasche will let you...
Well, just get it started, okay? I'll deal with Rasche.
Uh, it's better to ask forgiveness
than permission, right?
[sighs]
Just take the bottle, will you?
I don't have room for all this wine at my new place.
- I don't drink wine. - Well, regift it, then.
- This it? - Yeah.
So it'll look totally natural.
The blast will take out the whole floor,
and ignite a fire to take out the rest.
It'll be like a Nick Cage movie.
Nice.
I think we should disable the elevators,
stop any bogeys from getting in.
I'm just worried about the accounting firm below us.
HAFIZ: Ah, they'll be fine.
Go time will be about 6:00.
They leave at 5:00 on the dot.
I mean, they are accountants, after all.
- Did you get a line on cadavers? - They'll be here by game day.
Let's talk DNA.
LARTER: Ah, man, I told you not to go too short.
My sideburns look weird.
Who's gonna care?
You know, there's a chance the fire burns
all the hair anyway.
- Already thought about that. - And?
You sick fuck. [exhales]
[groans softly]
BEN: So, what'd you find?
HOMM: I think I got it.
♪ I think I totally got it. ♪
[laughs] Really.
Oh, my God. You-You know, um,
when you're trying to do one thing
and then you totally stumble
- into a total brainstorm moment? - WEIR: Uh-huh.
Well, tracking down the PAC contributions
and connecting them to individual corporations
would be insanely difficult.
Especially in cases of tax shelter shell companies
and all that sort of malfeasance,
it's a total nightmare.
I mean, if you understood the labyrinthine dimensions
of the Bahamian tax code,
- for instance... - Ed.
J-Just bear with me, please.
This is... this is so cool. [laughs]
See, I'm-I'm pulling out my chest hair
about corporate donations,
and then it occurs to me that individual employee donations
might be a better barometer.
Want to know why I thought that?
- Not really, no. - Oh, come on.
- He's so chuffed. Let him... - [Ben laughs]
He kills a guy with a fire extinguisher,
and suddenly he's in MI-5.
Yeah, I didn't, I didn't-- You said he was okay.
He's fine. Ed, the point.
Um, o-okay. Basically, I looked at
the executive-level donations,
and found that the vast majority of those individual donations
went to one PAC and one PAC only:
the America SOS Committee.
And then, when I looked at that, I found that they only ever
contributed to one politician on a regular basis:
Senator Nora Evers of New Jersey.
- But she isn't even running. - Uh, not yet.
But based on the volume and the amount of the donations,
she definitely will, I guarantee it.
Are you sure about this?
You have my word as a Tier Five forensic accountant.
And the number one trending topic on Twitter
two days running.
Well, that's what we need, isn't it?
It's insane. I mean, I'm going viral.
#EdIsNotDead.
- WEIR: Cover your ears! - What?
[explosion]
- [high-pitched ringing] - [indistinct voices echoing]
HOMM [muffled]: I-I can't hear anything.
Come on.
HAILEY: Where the fuck did they come from?
There's a door in the back. Move!
HOMM: What? What-- What did he say?
WEIR: Shit! Shit! Shit!
What? What is he saying? I can't hear anything.
- Shit! - Something put a...
ringing in my ears...
Shut him up, I'm trying to think.
[explosion]
- [cries out] Oh, my... - [gunfire]
HOMM: I got hit.
- I got shot. - This is where
you hammer the wall and pull out a bunch of guns, right?
I'm sorry. The only way we're getting out of here
is back through them.
Shit. Smoke!
HOMM: Oh, I-I got shot. They shot me.
- [indistinct chatter] - HOMM: I'm shot!
BEN: Shut him up!
In 15 seconds, I need you
to move around and make a lot of noise.
WEIR: What are you gonna do?
BEN: Trust me.
HOMM: Why is there smoke?
WEIR: What are you gonna--
Shit.
[Weir crying out]
- Got one. - Quiet.
- Too late! - [gunfire]
WEIR: Get ready.
- Move! - HOMM: What did he say?
WEIR: Get to the car now!
HOMM: Oh, I'm gonna bleed out.
Oh, I can't feel my arm. I-I got shot.
I got one of 'em, but I just winged the other one.
I don't know where he went.
How the hell did they find us?
I got shot, man.
HAILEY: You're-you're gonna be okay.
- What are you saying? - He really got tagged, here.
Ed, you're gonna be fine,
- for Christ's sake. - I'm gonna bleed out.
- Tell him he'll be okay. - He can't hear me.
There's no way they followed me, I was too careful.
Find something to tie around his arm
- to stop the bleeding. - What? What?
- BEN: Whatever. - I don't want to die.
I don't want to die.
I-I want Stacy. I don't care that she did it with Kevin.
HAILEY: O-Okay. Can we just pull over
and have the actual doctor in the car
- take a look at him? - Was anyone online last night
or make any calls?
'Cause there's no reason they should have found us.
Can you find somewhere safe to pull over?
- Yes. - HOMM: Can't feel my arm.
I got-- I got shot.
- Hold on. - HOMM: What?
- [Homm groans] - BEN: Quiet,
I haven't touched you yet.
- [Homm groans] - BEN: Be quiet.
BEN: Come on. All right.
There you go.
Well, you're lucky. It's gone right through.
See?
- What did I miss? - It's okay.
- We got away. - It's not okay.
Easy. You can't expect to see
every move before it happens.
Yes, I can. I gamed every version of this shit out.
What the fuck did I miss?!
BEN: You're missing the most obvious version,
that Valence sold us out.
- Stop saying that. - Oh, come on.
He knew where all the safe houses were.
- He didn't do it. - Johnathan,
it's the simplest explanation.
He turned, can't you see?
It's right under your fucking nose.
- You don't know that. - I know plenty.
I know that you're losing the thread.
You're agitated, you're paranoid.
It's getting in the way of your thinking.
You need to step back and see what's really happening.
Okay, let's calm this down.
Not to mention... I don't know what
- the next surprise is gonna be. - Oh!
She's got nothing to do with it.
Oh, no. She's just an ordinary lawyer
turned thief turned accidental millionairess.
You're compromised, and I fear you're losing it.
Don't listen to him.
Weir, you don't have to listen to him.
Now, look, Johnathan, we need supplies.
If I don't treat this man's wound,
his arm is gonna drop off.
Wait. What?
Oh, you hear me now, can you?
Cara just bought a wine fridge.
Cara? What, you're on a first name basis with the victims now?
Well, I've been following Weir's team a long time.
Okay, I'm gonna go home,
you leave it on my desk. Good night, Raj.
Credit card records show that she bought a wine fridge
two months ago,
- and she'd been filling it. - Mm-hmm.
A week before her death,
she spent a small fortune on wine,
so why is her wine fridge empty? Where is it all?
On the grassy knoll?
Not in her apartment when she died.
She knew something big was coming,
and she didn't want to let all that expensive wine
go to waste.
I mean, do you really think that she just happened to
get rid of all her good wine right before she died?
Okay, you know what? Shut up about the wine,
because no one gave you permission
to go to her apartment in the first place.
[elevator bell dings]
She could lead us to Weir.
Weren't you on my ass about the DNA?
'Cause we got confirmed matches this afternoon on guess who?
Ding, ding, ding! Exactly.
All three DBA employees.
They're dead. Case closed.
[exhales]
- Hey, Anna. - Madi.
Anything good?
Yeah. EIS flagged an incoming call
- to Cara Spader's cell phone. - Yeah? And?
Came from a burner.
Oh, fuck. Fucking Weir.
Ask them if you can get a location on Cara's phone.
Got it.
[wind whistling]
[breathing heavily]
[dialing, line ringing]
WOMAN [recording]: You have reached Arda--
[Homm crying out]
- BEN: No, no, no, no, no. - HAILEY: It's okay.
- Oh. - No, no, no, no, no.
- Mm... - It's okay.
All right, Edward,
this is the shitty bit.
- Shitty bit. - BEN: Yeah.
Copy that. Wait.
Hold on. Can I have some more whiskey?
There you go.
- BEN: All right. - Mm. Oh...
BEN: Attaboy.
Okay.
Ow.
Ow!
- Ed, you good? - No.
Get some more ice, will you, hon?
Sure... hon.
For the wound, not for the whiskey.
[phone line ringing]
RECORDED VOICE: You've reached Arda Analytics Legal Department.
If you know your party's extension,
- please enter it-- - [yawns]
You okay in here?
Yeah, just a little tired.
I don't know if you've noticed, but your-your dad...
is spending a lot of time
trying to undermine your trust in everybody but him.
You don't-- You don't need to listen to him.
I know my dad is a manipulative shit,
but in this case, I think he's right.
It's logical. [sighs]
Either Valence has turned against me,
or it's a leak.
Someone inside my circle.
- Me? - I didn't say that.
Yeah, but you're thinking that.
There's that 20%.
I have to consider every possible option,
even if I don't want to believe them.
So, do you? Believe it?
[sighs]
I might have stuck around at first for protection.
Yeah.
But do you think I feel safe anymore,
knowing what I know about who's after you?
After getting shot at?
I'm sticking around...
...for you.
But what-what's that?
What just happened?
- What? - It's like you went somewhere.
No. No, I'm good.
I don't think you are.
I... I meant we're good.
Okay, Hailey? I mean it. We're good.
[line ringing]
AUTOMATED VOICE: We're sorry,
your call cannot be completed as di--
[dialing]
[sighs]
MAN [on TV]: ...and they've turned a blind eye
to the fact that
Americans face the consequences of this crisis every day,
as deadly fentanyl pours into our neighborhoods
and crime surges!
RECORDED VOICE: ...department at Arda Analytics.
[phone disconnects]
[phone line ringing]
[phone ringing nearby]
[phone disconnects]
[line ringing]
[phone ringing nearby]
[ringing continues]
[ringing stops]
It was you.
You were the last person to talk to Valence.
Johnathan, let me explain.
You told him to jump?
I-I never said any such thing.
You let me just sit there and spin,
trying to figure this out, and you said nothing!
[TV playing indistinctly]
WOMAN: But just watch.
♪ ♪
I had no idea he was gonna do what he did.
- Please, believe me. - WEIR: Believe you?
Are you fucking insane?!
Weir, we need to get out of here.
Come on!
Fuck you.
Homm, come on.
BEN: Go, get to the woods. Now!
[gunshots]
Come on.
- Can you get a signal? - Not really.
Let's go.
ANNA: EIS had some trouble isolating
a location for Cara's cell phone,
but they got it boiled down to a block or two area downtown.
Great. Can you send me a pin?
Already did.
CHLOE: What happened to "don't text and drive," Mom?
I'm not texting.
Look, uh, I'm gonna have to make a stop.
You will stay in the car,
and you're not gonna fucking argue with me about it.
[exhales]
You tell me what the hell is happening.
- Don't you dare fucking lie. - No.
Listen... [sighs]
I was trying to fix things.
- I wanted to warn Valence. - About what?
About how--
About how things went pear-shaped with the intern kid.
You didn't try to kill him.
Look, letting that little shit go is contrary to
everything I've ever learned.
- [sighs heavily] - When in doubt, take 'em out.
Page one in the Langley manual of unwritten things.
Uh... Be thorough, be ruthless.
There's nothing so tidy as dead.
My plan, my rules. Remember?
Yeah, well...
...it's not as simple as that, Johnathan.
Hey, who wrote Weir's dating profile?
You do mine?
- LARTER: Talk to her. - Dinner orders?
- Meatball sandwich. - I'll have the same.
Reuben, extra kraut. Final answer.
THE INTERN: From Pete's?
- Katz's. - It's gonna take me, like,
half an hour to get up there, man.
Yeah? Well, it's worth the wait.
Have you had their Reuben? 'Cause if you did,
you'd be halfway there by now.
[sighs]
- [door opens, shuts] - Let's go.
Fucker.
All right.
[sighs]
♪ ♪
[phone ringing]
- Hey, baby. - ELIZA: Baby, where are you?
Are you fucking serious?
You know I'm at work, right?
Yeah, but you promised me that you'd be here.
I didn't promise you anything. All right?
I need you to listen to me. Right now...
do not do clingy, Eliza.
Okay, you know what, maybe you're right.
You're right, I'm sorry. Okay, I'll be better.
I'll be better. I can be better. Just come over now.
- I can't. - What did I do?
Can you tell me what I did?
I gotta go.
♪ ♪
[The Intern grunts]
Who are you?
- Who are you?! - Oh, fuck off.
Oh!
THE INTERN: Where'd you get this? Huh?
Fuck off, you punk!
[pained groaning]
Hey! Help! Help!
Help! [groaning]
Fuck!
[line rings]
I'm burned. They tried to kill me.
MAN: Well, then, you know what to do.
Broom it out.
WEIR: We agreed we were gonna leave him alone.
BEN: But I was right.
He's not some lucky plant.
I mean, he's dangerous. He's a pro.
- Doesn't matter. - Doesn't matter?
He bloody near killed me.
Why the fuck didn't you tell me?
Bec-- [sighs]
Because you needed to stay focused.
- Stick to the plan. - [sniffs]
You-You're going off on tangents.
- You never trust me, Johnathan. - Wow, I wonder why.
Please listen to me.
WEIR: Why didn't you tell me?
I was losing blood.
WEIR: Why the fuck didn't you tell me?
- Because I couldn't. - Why?
[phone line ringing]
Hey, Anna, uh, do me a favor.
Call Cara's cell for me.
Because if I told you that,
I would have had to tell you everything else.
Jesus Christ, what else is there to tell?
Your team...
[phone ringing faintly nearby]
Oh!
[phone continues ringing]
TV REPORTER: Homm was last seen...
LARTER: Well, we got burned!
- Listen. - REPORTER: ...Kettering Hotel,
getting into a black car.
Police received an anonymous video
showing Weir behind the wheel...
LARTER: They cut Weir in.
Valence fucked us.
- You hear me? - It doesn't change a thing.
Understand? It doesn't change a thing.
I'm coming back to the office.
We just passed Chambers.
He's ten away. We need to...
Listen. Listen, don't kill me.
[watch beeping]
It's done. Do I wait for Weir?
What the fu...
[alarm beeping]
- [explosion] - [car alarms wailing]
They're dead. All of them.
What?
BEN: I didn't know how to tell you,
so I was trying to make it right.
And I called Valence to warn him.
What did he say?
It's how I know he turned.
What did he say?
He told me to shut up and let him think.
And then he said it.
You tell him I had no choice.
I should have told you. Of course I should.
But I know how you are. You start spinning, and...
[sighs]
You see, Johnathan, I still look at you
and see my little boy
who needs protecting from the world.
Look, I fucked up
all over the place.
But you know, we have to carry on.
HOMM: Hey, guys, there's someone out there.
[sighs]
What the hell? How do they keep finding us?
Oh, my God, we-we have to get out of here.
We need to go. They are coming for us.
BEN: Come on, Johnathan. Come on.
Come on.
- What's wrong? - Come on, son.
I know what it is.
[sniffles]
[whispering]: It says they are here.
[sighs]
They're not here.
They figured it out.
Left the bottle behind.
[indistinct radio chatter]
You're welcome.
[Rasche sighs]
[engine starts]
BEN: Of course.
A $100,000 bottle of single malt whiskey
is gonna be chipped.
HOMM: If you ask me, the whiskey was worth getting shot.
Monstrously epic shit.
Okay, now what?
We find him.
Then what?
We end this.
How do we go about that?
WEIR: He owns Senator Evers.
We're gonna ask her.
EVERS: We've lost our way.
We're not the country of our mothers and our fathers.
We've betrayed their trust.
We have squandered their faith. Faith to keep America strong.
And that is why I am running for President
- of the United States. - [audience cheering]
Listen, don't-don't kill me.
Just... please don't.
REPORTER: So it's official.
Senator Evers joins the race for the White House.
Please.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
No, no, please, don't!
No, please!