04x03 - Heads of State

Previously on Sleepy Hollow...

Someone is unleashing unspeakable evils in our capital city.

The girl from the vision is Diana's daughter?

Molly is the next Witness.

How does one bring an innocent child into the battle between good and evil?

Don't be fooled by his genteel accent.

Ichabod Crane is keeping secrets.

Where are we on finding Ichabod Crane's compatriot?

Man: He's headed this way, and if his reputation holds true, death and destruction will follow.

(door creaking)

What fell acts have transpired in this dread den of horrors?

The last tenant disappeared under mysterious circum...

(clears throat): ...stances.

(clears throat)

The bastard owed me two months rent, too.


You're not one of those, right?

Not by trade, no.

I was assured a walk-in closet.

Well, you could walk in there if you wanted to.

Didn't the ad also specify the place has great light?

Sunlight gives you cancer.

And what of these so-called "stunning views"?

Uh, there's a neighbor that showers with her shades up.

(clicks tongue)

It's a little rundown, sure, all right, but this is an "edge" neighborhood, okay?

In two years, this whole block will be just cupcake joints and record stores.

And that's right up your O.G. hipster-vibe alley, Mr. Crane.


How have I not seen that before?

The facial hair and the boots and a proclivity towards obscure doughnut toppings.


If valuing progressive politics, counter-cultural initiatives and maple-glazed bacon marks me as a hirsute hepcat, then so be it, but this is still not the property for me.

Well, it's one-fourth the rent of the other seven places you saw.

I'll take it.


(indistinct music bleeds through apartment doors)

Hey, man, now that we're neighbors, we can bro down, hang out, Chill-doh Baggins.

Yes, indeed. I look forward to that.


I greatly appreciate your assistance in finding a suitable abode, Master Wells.

Oh, it's my pleasure. All right, I'll catch you later.

Um, Jenny Mills?

Jake Wells.

Our names are... similar.

(awkward chuckle)


And onwards.

Hey, you got the apartment, you got the Vault.

We know who the next Witness is.

When are you gonna tell Diana about Molly?

Agent Thomas has endured considerable hardship with her daughter...

The road is not gonna get any smoother.

I have a feeling you're going to tell me to pull off the Band-Aid.

Sooner rather than later.

You have a pretty neck, Mom.

Coming from a young Modigliani, I take that as a high compliment.

That's a... that's a really nice one.

Can I see what you've been up to?

Oh, wow.

You can have this one if you want.

I just work with him, Molly.


You mostly just draw people, not places.

Where'd you see this, baby?

You're gonna be late, Mom.

Okay, you're right. Let's go.

I'll drive you to Nanny Clara's.

Can't I just stay home? I'm 11 years old.

Not yet.



You might be ready, I'm not.

Man: The algorithm is adaptive.


So it generates predictive flashpoints based on query input.

Not unlike a crystal ball.

Actually, that's what we're calling the app.

And we've had lots of bites on the west coast, but no lead investor yet.

Yeah, it's a risk-averse world out there, isn't it?

But you know what?

I can get you funded with just one phone call.

But I won't.

Mr. Dreyfuss, if it's...

No, no, no.

It's not your software, it's not the financials.

It's your... vision.

See, this company of yours has a ten-year plan.

But where's your 50-year plan?

Your hundred, your thousand-year plan?

I'm not looking to cash in on the next round of junk bonds or penny stocks.

I am investing in no less than the future of the human race.

You wanted to be informed when he arrived, Mr. Dreyfuss.

Do people still use drawing boards these days?

So he's here, huh?

Any idea yet why he's come down to D.C.?

We won't have to wait long to find out.

As soon as the sun sets, he'll be on the move.

That's right. And when he arrives, death and mayhem are sure to follow.

Friday night lights, people.

Get your popcorn and your beer cozy, your cherry cola floats.

The fun is about to begin.

(sirens chirp and trill)

Man: ETA 25 minutes, Madam President.

(horse snorts, neighs)

(r*fle pump-cocks)

Code 9. Get down, Madam President!

(horse neighing)


(horse neighing)

Escort driver: I sh*t him point blank, and his head... fell off.

I know this sounds insane, but this horseman, he was headless, right?

And he kept coming.

The whole city's on lockdown.

DHS, Secret Service, local PD all on red alert looking for the bad guys who took a potshot at POTUS.

And all we have to go on is a dead escort driver, and another one who everyone thinks is concussed and talking crazy.

But you think differently?

I'm the only one who sees another possibility.

And you're the closet thing I have to an expert on this brand of craziness.

I've seen a demon and witches... but there's more out there, isn't there?

More monsters?

This guy's telling the truth, isn't he?

Did the assailant carry an axe?

The escort driver said he was carrying a glowing, red-hot axe.

You know what this thing is?

An abomination.

He goes by many different names in many different incarnations, but is unerring in his determination.

If the Horseman has set his sights on the president of the United States, nothing will deter him from his goal.

In other news, it's only Monday.

Crane: Soulless blackguard.

Merciless k*ll.

Death incarnate.

Dark Rider of the Apocalypse.

This is the creature we face.

The Horseman cannot be reasoned with.

He is a single-minded engine of destruction, and woe to all those who cross his path.

Something tells me you're about to say we're gonna cross it anyway.

I figured the bastard would show lack of a face sooner or later.

Okay, I have practical questions.

No head, right? So how does he breathe?

How does he communicate?

Is there, like, a utility neck hole?

I need to know what I'm working with.

More importantly, this thing is after the president of the United States. Why?

The Horseman's sole purpose in the past has been to retrieve his head.

Uh, the Norse myth of Mimir.

He was a god who got his head cut off in a god w*r, right?

And the king of the gods had it embalmed with herbs and preserved the head so that...

Pickled god heads, dude?

Tell me this is going somewhere.

The heads of royalty have been considered powerful totems by many cultures.

The pygmies have the whole shrunken-head thing.

Yeah, see, the more important the person, the more juju in the head.

Many cultures believe heads of state possess magical qualities.

The Horseman seeks the president's head.

But how do we stop him?

The escort driver's testimony said when the Horseman went for the president, he...

He reached a barrier he could not pass.

Perhaps a more thorough investigation of the street where the Horseman attacked the president is in order.

Uh, ho-hold on, hold on.

We're talking about an active investigation of a presidential assassination attempt.

I might be able to get you on the scene, Crane, but not a small army.

Um, can you boost a signal in an RT-196 through three feet of concrete?

Future me already has.

Well, then, I know how we can be there and not be there at the same time.

No group has stepped up to take credit for the attack on our commander in chief.

Could this be the work of a lone g*n?

One escort driver went down, and the other fought back over there.

Horseman went after the motorcade, then something stopped him.

(radio beeps)

30 paces west.

Jenny (over radio): Copy that.

Jake: Well, still think mapping these tunnels was a waste of time, hmm?

Not how I'd spend my weekend.

Jenny: Hey, hold up.

Know anything about glyphs and wards?

Um, only that wards can be glyphs, but glyphs aren't necessarily wards.

And the one you're standing on?


It's Mayan.

Hoy is used to bless or sanctify.

There's another over here.

These were carved centuries ago.


Duir, the oak.

A rune used to unlock the way.

You... uh, know your runes.

You keep eyeballing me like that, you'll lose an eye.


You are so not her type.

They say opposites attract.

Yeah, I don't know who "they" are, but, uh, according to Sun Tzu, you should never fight an uphill battle.

He had seven wives.

And this is where the Horseman turned tail?


You said 30 paces west from your last location?

Crane: Precisely.


Okay, we're right below you, and we've got something strange on our end.

There's something bolted to the underside of the manhole cover, and it's sitting dead center in a ring of protective magical glyphs.

That are carved into the tunnel walls.

Yeah, from different ancient cultures.

This is a magical ward.

Powerful enough to repel the Horseman.

Your area of expertise.

All I know is we have six hours until the sun sets.

Can you remove the disc and return to the vault?

I can examine it there.


(drill whirs)

It's an electro sonic resonance redactor of my own design.

It's the same principle as an ultrasound.

Is it hollow?

Uh, filled with liquid.

Oh, yeah, mercury. Yeah.

Highly prized by ancient peoples.

Chinese emperors drank it.

It's not a good idea, by the by.

I don't think it was mercury alone that did the trick. Look.

Jenny: Another ward.

This one is...



Sa, used on the tombs of pharaohs.


This symbol and those you discovered beneath the street.

I've seen this combination before in the work of a highly k*ll engineer, surveyor, and city planner.

His name was Benjamin Banneker.

No way.

No, I've read everything there is to read on Banneker.

Okay? He was the man.

A true champion of the Civil Rights Movement 200 years before there even was a movement.

Banneker was a revolutionary on many fronts.

I'd once read an account by a colonial officer, unnamed, which described a visit to Banneker's Maryland workshop in 1777.

My name is Captain Ichabod Crane.

I'm here on the orders of General George Washington to deliver a message to Benjamin Banneker.

I'm Ben Banneker.

And right now you're trespassing on my property.

Right, well, I...

According to Maryland law, it is within my rights to sh**t you dead.

(stammers) I come in peace, sir.

So... if you could cut me down.

Now get off my land.

I am to deliver a missive, sir.

Keep it.

Tear it up, use it to stoke your campfire.

It is an invitation, sir, from your commander in chief to join the fight against the British.

I'm not interested.

Mr. Banneker.

You... clearly have k*ll.

These k*ll could greatly benefit the w*r effort.

And what are your k*ll, Mr. Crane?

If they told you it was your ability to persuade, they were blowing smoke.

I, sir, could not, in good conscience, stand idly by while a nation was oppressed by tyranny.

Yet you gloss over the fact that those who seek to overthrow aren't any better than the masters they seek to expunge.

In a vote between the lesser of two evils, I choose not to vote at all.

Jake: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hold it. How could you know any of this, hmm?

I read it in Banneker's papers.


Well, Benjamin Banneker is a hero of mine, okay?

I know everything you can know about the man, and anyone that knows anything doesn't know much because all of Banneker's papers b*rned up in a fire in 1826.

This one was in the Sleepy Hollow Historical...

No, it wasn't, dude.

Just admit it.

It's okay.

You're a time traveler.

Diana: Okay, come on.

He might dress a little funky, but that's impossible.

Oh, like Headless Horsemen?

Huh? Demon John Wilkes Booth?

Jake's right.

I lifted a hair follicle off your jacket and sent it to the lab for carbon-14 dating.

The lack of fluoride, pollutants, radiation, iodine, all suggest you're from a time long before ours.

He is technically 265 years old.

Oh, my God! (chuckles)

How come you guys didn't mention this?

Alex: One point of proof does not a QED make.

Besides, really none of our business when he's from.

Okay, okay, okay.

So, demons, witches... monsters exist, and you're a time traveler?

Uh... a man out of time.

(quietly): Oh, my God.

Very well.

I was born in 1751.


I was an officer in General George Washington's Colonial Army.

Diana: Wait.

This thing that went after the president, the red coat, that's not a fashion statement, is it?

The Horseman and I have been sworn enemies since our first meeting on the battlefield in 1781.

Events transpired that saw him and me slumber for... mm, a little over 200 years.

Until a malevolent demon raised him as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

'Twas our great misfortune to face him many times.

"Our?" You and who?

My partner, and Miss Jenny's sister, Lieutenant Grace Abigail Mills.

'Twas our duty as the two Witnesses to...

Jake: You were witnesses?

You just said the Four Horsemen.

So, like, the two Biblical Witnesses?

The very same.

And we did it.

Together, we stopped the Horseman's master from unleashing the armies of hell.

You had me at "A man out of time."


Diana: Crane?

You and me, outside, now.

You saved my life so I cut you some slack.

Ever since then, you're the only person who has any information on these bizarre supernatural occurrences popping up in my cases.

Agent Thomas...

Now I find out that you are the supernatural?

Do you think it's okay to keep that from us?

Your anger is warranted.


But... there was much to which I was asking you to adjust.

I'm DHS and a Marine.

I think I can handle whatever you throw at me.

Very well.

Point taken.

But in a matter of hours the sun will set and the Horseman will ride.

Finish your story. Tell us what we need to know.

But do us the courtesy of being straight with us.

Jenny: We good?



Diana: But we're burning daylight.

You knew Banneker?

Jake: No.

He knew Banneker.

Knew him personally.

Well... enough to know he would've greatly appreciated your admiration, Master Wells.

Diana: This metal disc, how is it connected to him?

Washington ordered me to deliver a missive.

When Banneker refused it, I followed him into his workshop.

What I beheld inside was a chamber of wonders.

These plans are... magnificent.

Do I see signs of the Hermetic code?

An apostle of the square, level and plumb, are we?

I am a Freemason, yes.


This city.

This does not exist, does it?

Not yet.


But it will.

A metropolis dedicated to the noble and true, with liberty and justice for all men, regardless of their race, color or creed, incorporating the sublime aspects of Persian and Aramaic architecture, Mayan and Egyptian, Sumerian.

This city, this must sit at the heart of our new nation.

A beacon.

A bright, shining jewel.

A tarnished one, perhaps.

Your so-called founders, Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, they speak of freedom, yet they allow the abhorrent practice of slavery to continue.

They ignore the relevance of an entire segment of the American population.

I am an abolitionist, Mr. Banneker.

I agree.

All men, regardless of race, creed or color, deserve to be free.

Revolution can only begin on the page.

The final act must be played on the streets... to the resounding b*at of righteous hearts.

I know these men.


They will hear you.

In my correspondence with Washington, I have said as much.

Perhaps... um, there's a different approach.

This issue, if not dealt with, will tear this new union apart.

Good day to you, Mr. Crane.

This was surprisingly pleasurable.

Safe journeys from whence you came.

Crane: So, if this ward was built by Banneker and it is able to deter the Horseman, what else was in his arsenal?

See, right there?

Problem is, what I told you before is true.

All of Banneker's papers b*rned up in a fire 150 years ago.

Maybe not all.

You say there was a folio with the symbol of Sa in Banneker's workshop?


Joe and I busted into this black market artifact auction a while back.

I saw a leather folio with that symbol on the side.

May I?



Jenny: Architectural drawings from the collection of B. Banneker.

Wait. How is this even possible?

Dude, I've searched everywhere for any trace that any of Banneker's work might've survived that fire.

Yeah, I've been working these black market channels for a long time, and the good news is, the buyer lives here in D.C.

The folio sold for a small fortune to tech billionaire Malcolm Dreyfuss.

Jobe: Mr. Dreyfuss, a word.

A Department of Homeland Security officer is here to see you, and she has Ichabod Crane in tow.

They're on their way up right now.

All right.

Well, let's just let it play out, and if it seems like they have any clue about what we're up to, talismans, et cetera, then I may need you to improvise, my friend.

They said it was a matter of national security, Mr. Dreyfuss.

Dreyfuss: Hmm.

Agent Diana Thomas, Department of Homeland Security.


Will you tell me, is this about the insider trading or the offshore accounts maybe, or did you finally find the ditch where all the...

(whispering): the bodies are buried?

So, please tell me, how may I be of service to the mighty DHS?

I'm investigating a pressing case.

Oh, does this have something to do with the president?

I hear people are absolutely losing their heads over last night's attack.

Our work is classified.

What I can tell you is that we're looking for a specific item that we think may be in your possession.

It's a leather folio once owned by Benjamin Banneker.

I... I do have a rare Banneker folio.

It's in the vault downstairs.

Would you be a dear and go fetch that?

What made you first pick up the item?

I guess I am a freak for the freaky.

I've always been intrigued by the concept of the occult, and this is definitely the town for it.

Washington D.C.... has quite a reputation as a hotbed for alleged supernatural activity.

Ghosts, goblins, demons, witches... even the odd leprechaun.

Yes. Every city has its share of lore and its admirers.

Perhaps your considerable success, like Banneker's, relies on the preternatural.

Oh, I don't, um, I don't need Banneker's folio for that.

I sold my soul... to the devil at age 25.


Sorry. I kid, of course.


(Dreyfuss laughs)

It's one thing to read comic books.

It's entirely another to believe a man can fly.

By the way you speak of him, sounds like Banneker was the latter.

Oh, yes. Banneker, he definitely believed in powers and forces way beyond our ken, a credence reflected in his folio.

Dreyfuss: Banneker's plans for a golden city were said to have been used by Pierre L'Enfant as a template for Washington D.C.

Banneker envisioned the impossible laid over the possible.

Take J Street, for example.

There is no J Street in D.C.

It was skipped because the letter "J" was interchangeable with the letter "I" in Colonial times.

Dreyfuss: Yes. However, there are those in the occult community who claim that J Street actually exists.

In fact, some even say that J Street was meant to be a trap for any supernatural threat to the seat of government.

Crane: Well.

Your knowledge of the supernatural certainly is... extensive.

Mr. Dreyfuss, the board was expecting you a half hour ago.

You're free to borrow this.

If that's all you need from me...

Thank you for your cooperation.

Thank you. Thank you.

Quite the supernatural hobbyist, is he not?

Diana: That's a tactic a lot of people at the top of the pyramid use.

Play the odd bird, hide your true intentions.

Regardless of his motive, if the information he gave on J Street is correct, it may be exactly what we need to stop the Horseman.

I think we both know I don't have a board meeting today because, uh, oh, that's right, I don't have a board.

What are you playing at, Malcolm?

Why give them Banneker's map? Why tell them about J Street?

I'm delegating, my friend.

No one knows the Dark Rider better than Crane, and if he can use J Street to trap the Horseman, then we will be able to bargain from a position of strength.

Crane is your enemy.

Why trust him with a job this important?

A beta test.

No one has been to J Street in hundreds of years.

It's your call, but for the record, I advise against it.

Noted and appreciated.

Alex: Banneker's golden city is practically one-to-one to the actual layout of D.C.

So, Banneker went and worked with the founders after all?

Story for another day. We do not have long to prepare.

You're thinking J Street.

It is a cul-de-sac, so if we lure the Horseman in, we can use Banneker's disc to block his way out.

But you said that it's enchanted, so how do we open it?

Jake: There-There might be some reference in the secret histories.

Very good. With me.

Wow. You came loaded for bear.

Yeah, well, none of this'll stop the Horseman, but might slow him down.

I understand Crane's connection to him and all of this, but... you got pulled in because of your sister?

Yeah. I was with her when the whole Witness thing started for her.

I was 12. She was 13.

We took a shortcut home from school and came upon a demon raising a warlock in front of these four white trees.

Four white trees.

Crane: Here.

An entry that purports the way to J Street.


If you could learn where the president is being kept tonight, then we can intercept the Horseman en route.

I can try, but what's your plan to lure the Horseman?

Much as he would like the president's head, I think he'd leap at the chance for mine.

Okay, well, I will stop in my office and see what I can find, and I will meet you between I and K streets.

Soon to be J.

Diana: Hey, Clara.

Yeah, so, you're picking up Molly from soccer practice this afternoon, right?

Great. You're a lifesaver.

See you soon. Bye.

This is impossible.

(engine starts, revs)

(car door closes)

DHS has sent out a fleet of decoy motorcades.

Air Force One is already in the air, but POTUS is staying locked up tight, safe in the White House.

Very good. Then the Horseman will have to venture down Pennsylvania Avenue to reach his target. Any other direction, he'll have his route blocked by one of Banneker's wards.

I shall intercept him. Lure him here.

How are we gonna get this entrance open?

The others are negotiating it.

The workings of this entrance are hidden in the tunnels beneath our feet.


Jake: Now, according to comparison charts between Banneker's map and, uh, what I've been able to chart of this tunnel system, we're close.

I don't see any handles, locks, levers, buttons, counterweights, nothing.

The secret histories are fairly straightforward on how to get to J Street.

Those who can speak the words may open the way.

I don't see any words, but I do see more glyphs.

Well, that's your jam. No?


Diana: Molly drew this.

Hmm. She is quite the gifted artist.

And meticulous. She dates all of her notebooks.

She drew this weeks before she ever met you.

How is that even possible?

I want the unvarnished truth this time.

Very well.

This picture... this is when Abbie and I first met.

This was when the Horseman slew her mentor.

And this... this was her first brush with the supernatural.

Abbie, your partner. The one that died.


It's as if these were drawn from her perspective.

She was a-a... what do you call it... a Witness.

Like you, right?

A mantle, which Miss Jenny and I believe has passed on to another.


If you'll allow me to...

Uh, I don't... You, what do you think, she just inherited this Witness?

Agent Thomas...

(engine roaring)

(tires screeching)

The Horseman... has a head.

Tell the others to open the way.


I'll bring him to you.

The doorway. Open it now!

Alex: Let's hope this works.

Hoy. Duir.



We need this thing open. Now!

Are you so eager for the president's head that you would turn down this opportunity?

You've waited a long time for this.

Look, it's right here.

I knew we should've done a test run.

No! No! The secret histories were very clear.

Those who can speak the words may open the way.

"Speak," as in translate four different languages into one.

The one we speak.

Try this.


Make sacred.


Perhaps you're afraid.

Now you have a chin, I might take a swing at it. Hmm?

That's right...


Sa. Protect from evil.


Unlock the way.


For our journey.


Come on.

Come on! Come on, let's go. Let's go.

Guess you know your runes.

Alex. Phase two.

You're on deck.


What was that?

I don't know,.

Something is off.

Go back the way we came. Now!

Hello, old chum.




Come on, come on. Let's do this!

Almost there.

Where are they?




Go! Go!

All right, we're good.

Go! Now!

Close the door!


Well. Roaches check in, end up buying a time share.


Capital work.

For a group so new to this w*r, we have fought exceptionally well this night.

This is truly a milestone in the w*r against evil.

None of this changes the fact that you kept crucial information from me.

About who you are, where you're from, when you're from, and about my daughter.

And that you think there is a world in which I'm gonna let you take her anywhere near any of this.

I assure you upon my honor, every one of us will be with you for every step of this journey, and Molly's safety is absolute paramount.

Yeah. Which is why none of you are coming anywhere near her.

I understand this is difficult to take in...

Stop. This ends here and now.

No more supernatural creatures. No more Vault.

No more you.

Agent Thomas.

You cannot escape this.


Watch me.

Okay, Molly. I am going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them as truthfully and as best you can.

You draw from life. Where'd you see these things?

I don't know.

I didn't actually see them.

It was like they came to me in a dream.

Are you still having these dreams?

No, Mom.

Not since I stopped being quiet.

Did I do something wrong?

No. Absolutely not. Okay?

And we are gonna go back to the way things were before any of this.

I promise you.

Sweet girl, promise.

Mind if we join you?

Whoa. Oh, oh, oh, oh.

Easy. Easy...

I come in peace.

My understanding is you want the president's head.

As it happens, I can work that out for you.

Man of few words. I like that.

I can get you out of here, and I can get you near the commander in chief.

In fact, I will even give you that thorn in your side, one Ichabod Crane.

I'll take that as a yes.

I've removed Banneker's disc.

The way is clear.

Excellent, Jobe.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

(sirens wailing in distance)


Mm-hmm. Mm.


My strength is replenished, and I am ready for battle once more.

So... whether ye be "Skurar" or "Malm" or...


I shall show your Swedish cohorts that I am the master of this domain.


Which is the big one?

There's a big one and a small one.


Well, the... this is...

It's a...

There's a big one and a small...



Creaking floorboard.

Add it to the long list of repairs.

Home, sweet, home.