Hey, FBI. I need everybody to exit the train.
That's him. That's the guy.
I don't know you.
My orders are to protect you with my life, and I will do that.
Housekeeping.
Rose!
We got some new intel on the target.
Try to close this time.
She saw you at the house and can ID you.
This thing makes me ill.
Maybe Secret Service needs to step in more.
You stay on your own turf there, buddy boy.
Did you know Hawkins used to be Emma and Henry Campbell's old FBI handler?
What?
I heard my aunt say someone in the White House
who couldn't be trusted.
What else aren't you sharing?
We found a hard drive.
This has national-intelligence level security that I can't even get around.
The metro bombing.
What were your aunt and uncle doing investigating that?
I don't know without being cracking it, which I can't do without serious hardware.
Hawkins called off her Secret Service detail.
A farmer found him in a field.
Somebody killed the deputy director of the FBI?
Come in right now and bring Rose with you.
Peter, Diane Farr, the president's chief of staff.
Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.
Looking good, all things considered.
- Could have been a lot worse. - It certainly could have.
Appreciate you meeting me here.
The zoo lets me come before they open. The animals keep my morning walk spicy.
The last time I was here was, like, 20 years ago with my mom and dad.
We spent the whole time arguing about what kind of animals we wanted to be.
And what'd you pick?
A bear.
I was getting picked on a lot though.
And nobody's about to punch a grizzly. I get it.
So on the phone you mentioned you had a job you wanted to talk to me about?
Have you ever heard of Night Action?
Uh...
Good. You shouldn't have.
Night Action is a top-secret investigative program within the FBI.
What do they investigate?
- It's not my business to know.
All I do know is that it always involves matters of national security.
Eyes only.
The operatives who conduct those investigations
are known simply as night agents.
So you want me to be a night agent?
God, no. Sorry.
I want you to answer the phone for them.
What?
There's a secure emergency line in the basement of the White House.
Officially, it's a redundancy
in case the FBI needs to contact the president
and other methods are compromised.
In reality, if shit ever hits the fan, a night agent can call that line for help,
pass along a message.
I want you to be the agent on the receiving end of those calls.
It's a dual role,
FBI and White House.
You'd answer to Deputy Director Jamie Hawkins and to me.
But mainly to me.
So essentially, I'd just be a glorified 911 dispatcher?
The phone rarely rings.
So I'd be behind a desk all day?
All night.
The opening is for the 8:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m. shift.
We need someone hardworking, trustworthy, loyal.
Someone who does what's asked of them, who knows how to step up when needed.
Like you did on the metro last week.
If I'm being honest, it just sounds like a demotion.
You'd be working in the White House, close to the real decision-makers.
Agents who work the phone get their pick of assignments afterwards.
Or you can wait it out in Surveillance, hope somebody gives you a shot someday,
despite your infamous last name.
Seems like a pretty clear choice to me.
If I am interested?
You gave the wrong answer before.
In the wild, sure, bear, lion, majestic, powerful, all that shit,
but in here, they're basically just giant house pets.
In here there's only one creature you should want to be.
The one who decides when the others sleep, what they eat, who they fuck.
The bitch with all the keys.
Welcome to the White House, Peter.
Peter, did you hear me?
We'll be at the White House in an hour.
Hawkins had 30-plus years in the FBI.
He had a spotless reputation.
It doesn't make sense why a guy like that would turn. I don't get it.
Who gives a shit?
Why did you tell your boss we're coming in?
It's an order, Rose.
You and your orders, Peter! Shuffle the fucking playlist.
I'm not stepping into that White House and just handing over their drive.
You can't get into that thing.
You don't have the resources. The White House does.
It could tell us who killed your aunt and uncle, Rose.
And we could be handing over key evidence straight to their killers.
I mean, Jesus Christ,
the deputy director of the FBI was just murdered Godfather-style.
So either he was clean and got too close to finding the actual traitor,
which, by the way, is exactly what we're trying to do--
Or he was dirty, and he was working with someone else in the White House
and they killed him to cover it up. I get it.
Either of those versions sound like we're remotely in the clear?
No. But director of the FBI, chief of staff, the president?
Rose, you think all these people have something to do with this?
I don't know. And that's my entire point.
I'm not going, and neither is this drive,
not till we know who we can trust.
When I told you that I was a nobody at the White House, I meant it.
This is way above my level.
We need somebody with actual power who can protect us,
with actual resources who can get into that thing.
That's Diane Farr.
We can trust her.
And you'd bet your life on it? My life?
Yeah.
Yeah, I would.
My whole career, I've been kept down
because of something my dad was suspected of doing.
Farr was the only one who never held it against me.
She judged me on the merit of my actions, not my dad's.
And if you're wrong about her?
Farr.
Hey, it's me.
Peter, are you on your way?
No, not yet.
It's Rose.
Her aunt and uncle,
the shit at the hotel, and now Hawkins being murdered...
She's just...
She's a little jumpy.
Can't blame her. Everyone's on edge over here too.
Why was Hawkins in that field?
Was he gonna meet with someone?
We don't know yet.
It'll be the biggest federal investigation since JFK,
and we don't know jack shit.
Director's briefing the president in an hour.
Hopefully we'll have more clarity then. What do you wanna do about Rose?
All she needs is a good night's sleep.
Give us till 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.
Take whatever time she needs.
You still have the hard drive?
Yeah, I got it.
That's priority one.
And be careful, okay?
- Yeah, I will.
Hey, I know a place where we can stash the car overnight.
- Great. - What'd she say?
We have until 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.
You ready?
Let's go camping.
We believe he was killed elsewhere,
then dumped in that field.
We've redirected every available agent to solve this.
So we have zero suspects, even less evidence,
and we don't know what Hawkins' connection was to the Campbell murders.
Am I missing anything?
No, Madam President, but we're working on it.
Have you informed his wife yet?
I told Cynthia a couple hours ago.
Her reaction was
as you'd expect.
Let me know when a good time would be to share my condolences.
That's all. Thank you.
Diane.
- The Campbells' niece? - Sutherland's watching her.
- And where are they now? - I didn't ask.
It's safer that way. He assured me they'll be here tomorrow.
Doesn't really feel like you've got control of the situation.
All due respect, Michelle, you're not making my job very easy.
Oh? Whenever you call me Michelle, I know you're pissed.
I'm in the dark here.
I have no idea why Hawkins would have pulled Rose Larkin's detail,
because I don't know what Henry and Emma
were investigating through Night Action to begin with.
What were you using them to find out?
I can't protect Rose.
I can't protect you, unless you read me in.
Okay.
Might wanna sit down for this.
Morning.
How long was I out for?
About five hours.
Did you get any sleep?
No.
Maybe someday.
Somebody's gotta watch the cabin.
- I could have taken a shift. - I didn't wanna wake you up.
See anything yet?
Nope.
Look, I called Farr on her personal phone.
I didn't use Night Action.
Which means that if she's in on this,
she could've traced the call and sent somebody after us by now.
Right?
Yeah. Okay.
Thank you.
So we're good. Can we go now?
Help!
- Is anybody there? - Get down.
Please!
I fell on the trail! I think I broke something!
The people who killed your aunt and uncle, could one of them have been a woman?
Help!
Hello?
Back wall, back of the cabin.
That's him.
Let's go. Come on.
Fuck.
They're not in there. The woods.
Guess we got our answer.
- Always a tease with these two. - Let's go.
Swap out the SIM card on my phone.
Yeah, it's them.
2-4-1-3-5-X.
- You got the license plate? - Yeah. Yeah, I do.
- You're not gonna chase after them? - Not with you in the car, no.
Not when they outnumber me two-to-one.
I got the plate. I'll send it in to someone else to track it.
Who, Farr?
You need more proof that she's the traitor my aunt was warning about?
- I get how it looks, but I-- - But what?
She was the only one who knew where we were. You said it yourself.
I'm just trying to consider all the angles, okay?
Occam's razor said there's only one angle, the conniving bitch angle.
We don't know that.
Thank you for protecting me.
Let's just get out of here, okay?
Yeah.
Diane.
Where are Sutherland and Rose Larkin?
- Why? - Well, aren't they supposed to be here?
Maybe.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
It means you need to give me a reason to trust you, Ben.
How does a witness's Secret Service detail get pulled without you knowing?
Without your deputy knowing?
I didn't catch that Hawkins had pulled my guys till after the fact.
Now I'm trying to make it right.
Sutherland and Ms. Larkin were supposed to get here earlier today,
but I haven't heard from them yet.
- I'll let you know when I do. - Sir?
I have Agent Arrington on the line returning your call.
Please patch her through.
Much appreciated.
- Arrington. - Sir.
How's Badger doing?
At the gym, then heading to class. Art and Activism.
What I would give for a little tedious fieldwork right about now.
Rough night?
The shit hit the fan with the deputy director's murder.
FBI wants all the backup we could give 'em,
which is why I'm calling you.
I'm pulling Ramirez to aid the investigation.
Copy. I'll need to swap some shifts, but I'll make it work.
There's no need. I'm sending a replacement.
Erik Monks.
As in "Monks" Monks? I thought he got out after--
He's been rehabbing. He's getting back to 100%.
I was thinking I'd start him off with something easy,
out of the spotlight,
so I figured the VP's daughter's detail was the right fit.
When does he start?
Today.
I know. It's last minute.
I was planning on having him join you next week, but...
...extenuating circumstances.
Not a problem, sir. I'll get him up to speed.
Good girl.
Maddie.
I'm late for class.
I wanted to introduce you to a new member of the security team.
This is Erik. Erik, Maddie Redfield.
It's a pleasure to meet you, ma-- Uh, I'm sorry.
It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.
Erik's been with the Secret Service almost two decades.
You may have heard of him.
He saved the last president a few years ago.
That manufacturing plant in Ohio?
- You're the guy who got shot? - Yes, ma'am.
If Chelsea's good with you, I'm good.
By the way, I'm going out with Izze and Daphne tonight.
Where to?
Some bar. I'll text you the deets.
Gotta run.
Oh, don't forget your panic button.
She always forgets her panic button.
Millennials, right?
Actually, she's Gen Z.
And millennials like me hate the label "millennials."
Noted.
Keep up.
Only a few friends, no significant other.
She's a double major, Poli Sci and Art, so she's in the studio a lot, painting.
Got it.
We try to fit in on campus as best we can, make her feel like she isn't being watched
every waking moment.
Right. I'll ditch the suit.
How'd a guy who saved POTUS get stuck on the vice president's daughter's detail?
Physical therapy. It, uh... it took a while after I got shot.
So I guess this is their way of easing an old man back in.
And every assignment is important, right?
How'd someone so young get to run their own detail?
I'm 28, but I can look younger, so I fit in on campus.
Still...
That's how Maddie wants it. She doesn't trust many people.
But she trusts you.
Go for Jenkins.
Cisco, what's up, brother? It's Peter.
Petey. You're up past your bedtime.
- New number? - It's, uh... it's temporary.
But do you have a minute?
I need you to run a BOLO on a gray Ford Bronco for me.
You're on an op?
Yeah, but can't tell you anything else, man. Sorry.
Good for you, brother.
About goddamn time they let your ass out of the basement.
All right, what's the license plate?
Foxtrot, Zulu, 4-1-3-5, X-ray.
Yeah.
Yeah, I gotta get a new burner, but, um, I'll call you tomorrow.
I appreciate everything, man. I owe you one. Seriously.
Thanks, dude.
- Shower? - Yeah.
- Thank you. - Sorry about Farr. I know you liked her.
If it really is her behind all this, I don't know how I didn't see it.
What does that say about me?
Maybe it says you wanna see the good in people
'cause you hope people will see the good in you.
Not my fault you're so easy to read.
Fuck me.
Okay, let's say Farr is not involved, totally innocent.
That means someone had access to her call log
and tracked us from your phone.
Yeah.
So we can't trust her to keep the hard drive safe
from whoever's trying to kill us,
not until we crack it, figure out who Osprey is,
and what's happening in, what, five days now?
Well, how do we do that?
Well, the drive's encryption algorithm's too sophisticated to crack on my laptop,
so I'm gonna need a beast of a computer.
Like the CIA and NSA have at the White House.
What, they didn't have any super computers for sale inside?
Someone bought the last one.
- Did get a burner phone though.
Well, we're an hour past my deadline with Farr,
so if I don't check in soon, that'll raise a red flag.
On second thought, what if we do give her the drive?
What do you mean?
So... I hate it here.
Here where?
This shitty motel,
this depressing room.
Nothing good's happened since we checked in.
- It's bad luck. - Oh, you can't control luck.
Sure you can.
No, you can't. That's why they call it luck.
Okay.
But you can control your surroundings.
It's basic feng shui.
The happier you are where you live, the more productive you are.
And this place sucks feng shui ass.
- Okay.
I'll find us a different one, then?
Mm-mm. No.
No more motel rooms.
We deserve something better.
A home.
Why does it feel like you have something specific in mind?
So are we doing this or...?
- There's gotta be another way. - We need NSA-level shit.
Kind of limits our options.
Don't tell me you're having moral quandaries.
Well, what, you're not?
No. The first time I shoplifted, I was eight.
Touching.
Well, my mom ran off to some casino
with her flavor of the month for the long weekend,
and I had just finished my last jar of Jif on day one.
I stole a packet of Flamin' Hot Cheetos from the 7-Eleven.
I felt so ashamed afterward, I threw the whole thing up.
Where is this story going, Rose?
Well, the next day I went back, I boosted a Kit Kat and a Cherry Coke,
and I kept those down no problem.
I'm happy for you, okay?
But I never picked up the habit of petty theft, so...
Oh, you missed out. Risk and reward.
Taught me everything I needed to know about working in big tech.
When people think you're the son of a traitor,
and all you wanna do is be in the FBI,
you don't have the luxury of doing shit like that.
This plan of yours,
if I get caught,
if any of it goes wrong, if we're wrong about any of it...
I'm done.
I get it.
Even the slightest notion of disobeying authority feels wrong to you.
But when it's your actual life at stake,
that guilt goes away real quick.
Yeah, okay. Well, if we get separated, we're gonna need a place to meet up.
Yeah, a, uh, uh, meetup spot. Sure. Where?
Okay, there's a place just east of Canal and Foxhall, right?
It's a park. It's called Foundry Branch.
Find the pedestrian tunnel, go through it. You'll find a pier.
I used to fish on it with my dad when I was a kid.
But make sure you're not being followed, okay?
Watch for tails.
Okay. I feel like such a spy now.
- It's kind of the family business, right?
Say it back to me. Where are we going if we get split up?
Uh, Foundry Branch, take the tunnel to the pier, check for tails.
- Good. - Okay.
Be careful.
Yeah, you too.
Hey, uh...
You'll be okay.
Yeah, so will you.
And, um, for what it's worth,
I'm... I'm glad it was you in the basement who picked up my call.
Beirut's moving to tomorrow. We'll have to reschedule Watkins.
Texas 22nd Watkins?
Jesus, Peter. Where have you been?
Hey.
Rose ditched me while I was washing up at a gas station.
Luckily, I had the drive in my bag.
Any idea where she is now?
No idea, ma'am.
We have a file on her since the attack.
We'll run down possible people she might go to.
Good. Keep me in the loop.
Sorry to interrupt. Drive's clean.
No spyware, no Trojans.
I've started a decryption on the air gap here.
How long will it take?
Five hours, 40 minutes, give or take.
Once he clears, lock the room to everyone's badge
except for mine and POTUS's.
Yes, ma'am.
Go home, get some sleep.
Almora's got Rose's description out to the metro area.
We'll get someone to cover for you tonight.
No, I think I should be by the phone.
When she was at the hotel, Rose called me on Night Action,
so maybe if we give her time to think,
she'll call again, and I can convince her to come in.
Or at least, uh, ping her burner, and we can get her location that way.
Smart.
You're handling all of this really well, Peter. It's noted.
Thank you.
- Nice work, Eva. - Thanks.
- How's it coming along? - Maybe just come back later.
Or never.
Just say it. It sucks.
I'm not a real artist.
I disagree.
I just think you won't show me yourself yet.
I'm not hiding anything.
I'm just
not good anymore.
I used to be, but whatever I had, it's gone.
This is Art and Activism, Maddie.
In order to confront the world to change it,
we can't be afraid to be seen.
To stand for something bold.
But to do that,
we first need to confront ourselves.
Next time, I want you to explore what's holding you back. Be...
be fearless.
Be personal.
Be brave.
I dare you.
What is this?
A very desirable neighborhood, I'm told.
Wanna see our new home?
Follow me.
The realtor, Barb, two kids, got into real estate after her divorce.
She showed it to me this afternoon.
The owners are in Florida all month,
and there are no more showings for the rest of the week.
So, it's all ours.
Barb didn't do a very good job of hiding the lockbox code from me.
Or the security code.
I told her we were newlyweds from Houston,
that we were moving here for your job.
She buy you as a housewife?
I told her I own my own business and that I worked remotely,
because we would definitely need two salaries for this place.
Okay, so, open concept, private backyard, primary bedroom upstairs,
primary bathroom, steam shower, Jacuzzi tub,
huge walk-in closets...
What do you think?
I think you're not telling me something.
What are you looking for here?
Look, we're always moving, always hiding,
And I thought maybe...
- Maybe we might-- - Maybe what?
Maybe we'll try this for a little while.
You know?
See what it's like.
See what's what like?
Being people who go to work and come home.
Being people who cook dinner in their kitchen,
who go to sleep in their own bed with 600 thread-count sheets.
You know, these people who live in these houses...
they are not happy.
They pretend.
Believe me. It's like a game.
You understand?
We're not like them,
you and me.
We could be happy here...
even if it's for a little while.
I don't know.
Uh...
Oh, come on.
Hey.
Play house with me...
please.
Okay, we'll take it, then.
Anywhere you like, hon.
See ya.
You on a deadline or something?
- How could you tell? - I'll keep the coffee coming.
Thanks. And, uh, maybe a double side of fries.
They're bottomless, actually.
Status?
Kitchen's all clear.
Georgetown girls are supposed to be smart, not beautiful too.
You live around here?
Yeah.
Yeah, you wanna see my place?
Moving a little fast, aren't you?
Maybe.
But I haven't told you what we'd do there.
Okay.
Let's hear it.
Stand by.
I'd lay you down on my bed,
tie your hands and feet to the bed posts so you couldn't move,
and then I'd take my cock out and piss all over your face.
You think I don't know who your fascist father is?
Fuck him and fuck you.
Code three. Move in, extract.
- Hey. - Let go!
We're 10-7 with Badger from this location. We need transport now.
Move!
What the hell was that? You let that guy get hands on Maddie.
I slipped. I slipped. I still got him down though.
It was a goddamn shitshow.
I don't care how many presidents you saved,
I don't do fuckups on this team.
You know I gotta report this, right?
Do what you gotta do.
Shit.
Uh, yes, go ahead.
The fries here are amazing.
Farr, it's Peter.
Hey, uh, Rose called the Night Action line.
She wants to talk to you.
Rose, are you okay?
I'm alive, which is more than I can say for my aunt and uncle.
Where are you?
I'm not saying anything, not until you answer some questions first.
I want to help.
I know you're confused.
I also know it's not safe for you out there by yourself.
What can I say to ease your mind?
I want some answers.
I don't have enough of those yet, but I'll tell you what I can.
"Connect the Wi-Fi adapter to air gapped computer."
Did Deputy Director Hawkins have my aunt and uncle murdered?
The FBI is investigating, but, yes, it seems that way.
And the men who did it, what do you know about them?
The director has agents working around the clock looking for them.
Secret Service is assisting, as is local law enforcement.
We'll find them soon, Rose.
Right now, though, I'm worried about you.
But I can't guarantee your safety unless you come in.
I promise we can protect you.
Like you did at the hotel?
I trusted Hawkins' Secret Service.
I won't make that mistake again.
- Why should I trust you?
You trust Peter, right?
Yes.
He trusts me, ergo...
Come on, Rose.
Hurry.
I understand why it's hard for you to trust anyone right now,
but I wanna help you.
So, what do you say?
Anywhere you like.
Is someone there with you?
No, it's just I...
Tell me where you are. I'll have Peter pick you up.
I have to go.
Rose, no.
Damn it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Shit.
Shit!
Damn it. Peter?
Peter?
There you are.
Left my badge inside. Help a lady out?
Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
Anything more on Rose?
No, you're right.
Poor thing's terrified.
Could you trace her?
No, no, no, no. Uh, she must be using a new burner.
Where the hell is my...?
Here it is.
Let me know if she calls back.
Uh, did you hear anything in the background of the call
that might help us, you know, figure out where she is?
I heard a door jingle.
Sounded like a diner or something.
I'll have Almora check with the local police. Thanks.
Yeah.
Hey.
Thanks.
Miss?
- Oh my God. - Hey, miss?
Hey.
I... I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were talking to me.
You left your charger inside.
Oh, uh, thank you.
Um, late night, head's all scrambled.
Do I, uh, do I know you from somewhere?
I don't think so.
I... I don't live here. I'm just-- I'm passing through.
Yeah.
Thank you.
Safe travels.
What the fuck?
It's empty, the hard drive.
It's fucking blank.
Do you think that the Campbells wiped it or something?
Or you did.
- What? - I found this on the air gap.
I checked. Only badge scanned into the office was mine,
including once when I was sitting here speaking to Rose.
When you left to go trace her phone.
They warned me.
They fucking warned me not to bring you in after your father.
- Wait, what? No. - I should have listened.
Hold on. Hold on.
You try anything, I'll fucking scream.
I'm not gonna hurt you.
Are you working with them?
- With who? - What have you done, Peter?
Did you kill Hawkins?
What? No.
Then explain this.
You explain first.
Who sent the killers after us this morning?
At the cabin?
I called you, only you.
Who gave them our location
if you were the only one who could've tracked us?
You, come here.
Get this to Tech, have them scan it for spyware.
- Right now. - Yes, ma'am.
Okay.
Let's start over.
Maybe I'm an idiot for telling you this, but what the hell.
If you can't convince me you're innocent in the next two minutes,
you're gonna be stuck in a supermax prison for the rest of your life anyway,
so here it is.
There are occasions
when the president can commission an intelligence investigation
outside the normal chain of command.
Night Action.
Two months ago, POTUS initiated a Night Action into the metro bombing.
Intelligence had no leads, no credible suspects,
no possible motives, nothing.
Until that statement leaked from the People's Independence Front.
Right, but there were doubts.
Omar Zadar, the leader of the PIF,
disavowed the attack.
Claimed the statement was fake.
The CIA spent months listening in on their leaders.
No mention of the attack, no confirmation.
POTUS felt she wasn't getting the full story,
so she called on two old friends from her Senate Intelligence days
to take a new look into it.
The Campbells.
Apparently, they suspected someone inside the White House
of being involved with the metro bombing.
Yeah.
I reacted the same way when I heard.
Okay, so who's the traitor, then? Hawkins?
For my money?
But any assumptions now could be deadly.
As of now, we still don't know for certain who this person is,
or who else they compromised.
We don't know how or if they're connected to the PIF.
But clearly, it's someone senior enough to get spyware on my phone
and to pull Rose's detail off the hotel.
Holy shit.
We need concrete proof though,
which I was praying to find on that hard drive.
What the fuck were you thinking?
Thought you were trying to kill us.
Peter, I swear on everything I hold holy,
I did not send anyone after you and Rose.
The question now is, can you still convince me to trust you?
- Good evening, sir. - You called?
There was an incident tonight.
Someone accosted Badger at a bar.
- Is she okay? - Just a couple scratches.
We have two men in custody.
She's shaken up though.
You'll have my full report later tonight, but, um--
Who fucked up?
No one, sir. It was just--
Arrington, it's late. I need to get home.
Cut the bullshit and tell me who fucked up.
Monks was first in.
He should've defused the situation, but he... he slipped.
Well, let's just give him a couple days to get settled in.
Sir, he might think he's good to go after his layoff, but I certainly don't.
Before taking that bullet,
Monks was one of the best agents we had.
I learned a ton from him when we were partners.
I didn't realize you were partners.
Ages ago. Trust me, he's an asset to your team,
otherwise, I would have never assigned him.
And who knows? Maybe you'll learn something from him too.
I like to think my team's been doing a good job
keeping Badger safe since I took over.
And now, with Monks on the team,
Maddie will be that much safer.
Right?
Right.
But keep an eye on him.
I want you to let me know how he's doing.
Okay?
Of course, sir.
Okay. Let's get some fucking answers.
Let's discuss the statement that leaked recently
claiming credit for the D.C. Metro attack.
We didn't write that statement, and we didn't orchestrate that attack.
Right. But it was written on your party's letterhead
and leaked from a server in your party's headquarters.
A fake used to discredit us,
because the PIF is climbing in the polls,
and because we represent the common man and woman here at home.
You can see why there are doubts, Mr. Zadar.
The bombing of the government building attributed to your--
The party is not responsible
for the actions of a handful of its more extreme followers.
Next question.
Ten civil servants died in one of those attacks.
Common men and women.
Well.
Isn't this an unexpected delight?
How's the CIA?
The rest of the world still wants to kill us, so, you know, it's, uh...
It's busy.
So are we gonna do this again?
Get your mind out of my pants for 30 seconds.
I need a favor, and you still owe me one.
- Our night together didn't cover that? - Not even close.
What kind of favor?
I need to know why a national hero
got assigned to the most thankless detail in the whole Secret Service.
Heads up, next class starts in about two minutes.
Oh, I didn't realize we'd finished. Sorry.
Don't be.
All great artists get absorbed in their work.
Let's take a look.
Maddie, let me in.
I took your advice...
drew what was holding me back.
Please tell me this isn't how you see yourself.
No, it's not me.
It's my father.
It's incredible.
It's everything I knew you had in you.
You've got to paint it, Maddie.
Um,
I should get ready for my next class.
What's with the smile?
Nothing. It just finally feels like I'm figuring things out with my art.
Oh, by the way, Harper invited me.
She has a couple pieces on display.
Sounds like fun, except the Harper part.
She's not that bad.
We'll scope out the venue today.
What's wrong?
You've got that look when you have bad news.
Just heard that your dad plans to stop by to see you tomorrow.
Well, then I should probably schedule an emergency session with my shrink.
Come on, Maddie. He won't be here long.
You need to figure out a way to tolerate him.
We'll get through tomorrow, okay?
Together.
There you are. I think I found something. Check this out.
Rose, I--
- What the fuck is she doing here? - She's on our side. I swear.
She's not. She tried to have us killed.
No, I didn't.
I'm here to help you.
Hear her out.
You said you wanted answers.
I'm here to tell you the truth about your aunt and uncle.