14x22 - Poisoned Motive

[bunniefuu]

In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

[Overlapping chatter]

Right on through.

[Beep]

Okay, left hand.

You'll be sorry.

You'll pay for this.

Uh-huh.

Left hand!

I was doing those girls a favor.

Right.

You lock 'em up, pimp 'em out.

I'm sure their thank-you notes are in the mail, huh?

They were starving in China before I helped them.

We got patrol lined up to take Mother Teresa here to Central Booking?

Well, actually, no.

1PP wants a show-and-tell with Mrs. Chang.

Dragon ladies sell papers, so make sure the cars are washed, doors unlocked.

Perp walk?

I left my tie at home.

Hmm.

I keep an extra one in my locker.

I'm sure you do.

Well, I wouldn't worry about it.

Spotlight is gonna be on Rollins.

She was lead on the case.

It was a group effort.

The girls are talking.

They'll give statements.

Better fix your lipstick.

[Crowd chatter]

[Overlapping questions]

Make a statement for us!

[Shouting continues]

[g*nsh*t]

[Groans]

Amanda!

Amanda!

[Groaning]

Stay down.

Amanda! Amanda!

Get back.

How bad?

I don't know.

It came from up there.

I got her.

Let's go.

Back up!

1013, 1013, we have an officer sh*t.

Send a highway to the blood bank.

Open up for me a route to Bellevue.

Unh!

Hold on, girl.

Hold on, I got you.

[Groaning]

Clear.

This is where the sh**t must have taken his sh*t.

[Siren blaring]

[Theme playing]

♪

Fin.

What's up, girl?

It doesn't hurt.

They got you on that happy mud.

It's just a shoulder wound, straight through and through.

Through and through.

[Laughs]

Just through, through.

Just like I said.

[Laughs]

Did you get the guy that sh*t me?

[Heavy sigh]

How is she?

She feels no pain.

b*llet hit muscle, came out through her upper back.

No permanent damage.

Any leads?

Nothing on the roof.

No witnesses.

He just melted away.

Look, we're checking cameras, license plate readers.

Everything.

CSU recover a b*llet?

Pulled a .45 caliber, full metal jacket slug from the sidewalk, pancaked.

Won't get much from ballistics.

.45?

That's long range for a p*stol.

One b*llet, rooftop sn*per.

This was a targeted hit.

And it was Rollins' bust.

I mean, are we sure that we got everyone in their organization?

Dragon lady was mouthing off to Rollins.

She's still down at Central Booking.

Go bring her back.

20 people in my cell.

The toilet is disgusting.

Hope you enjoyed it.

That's five-star compared to where you're going.

I'll post bail, be home in time for my Mets.

For attempted m*rder of a police officer?

I don't think so.

That gweilo cop?

I was in the car.

How did I sh**t her?

If any of your people did it, you're an accomplice.

Just as guilty.

If one of my people did this, that pretty lady would be dead.

And those messages she got, they weren't threats.

Okay.

So what were they?

From my girls.

They were happy.

They wanted the detective to leave us alone.

So you did get threats from Ms. Chang's people?

It's just a few texts.

Which you did not report.

I don't need TARU and IAB going through my phone.

And why's that?

Friendly reminders from the people I owe... a gambling debt to.

Any other surprises?

Listen, uh, why don't I just step out for a cup of coffee?

We need to see your phone.

We have to follow this up.

Okay, all right.

I heard from Earl Talley, it's this idiot friend of my sister's who's mad I sh*t Jeff.

It's hot air.

I can take care of it myself.

Says the girl lying in the hospital with the hole in her shoulder.

Amanda, we got this.

Earl Talley!

Earl?

[Toilet flushing]

Ah!

Uh.

We knock... you don't answer?

I was sleeping.

What are you, sleep-flushing?

I don't feel good.

Well, next time, try aspirin, not hillbilly cr*ck.

What do you want?

Where were you at 10:00 in the morning?

Come on, man!

Who knows stuff like that?

You were right about Earl.

Couldn't sh**t himself in the foot if he had a shotgun taped to his ankle.

At the time you were sh*t, surveillance cam shows him at a bodega buying mountain dew and donuts.

Told you he wasn't the guy.

Fin and I are headed upstate to talk to your bookies.

No, you--

I don't see what's in it for them.

I mean, they sh**t me, I stop paying.

They didn't k*ll you.

It could've been a warning.

Now, Mrs. Chang, it's a big step from prostitution to cop k*lling.

You know, okay, so maybe this isn't about me.

All right, one sh*t from 100 yards away.

[Cell phone chimes]

What then? Hmm?

Stray b*llet?

I don't know.

Right, you don't know.

What?

Another sn*per sh**ting, same MO.

.45 caliber, FMJ.

Lieutenant!

Fin!

Is this your case?

Olivia, this is Lieutenant Howard.

This was my supervisor when I was in Narcotics.

It's my son Mark.

Your son was sh*t?

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

How's he doing?

He's in surgery.

They don't know.

He was walking out of his apartment.

It was a sn*per.

A single sh*t?

Rooftop?

Yeah.

Ms. Howard.

I worked for her my last two years undercover.

Fin, your partner, her son.

This can't be a coincidence.

No...

[Sobbing]

Damn!

I'll wait here.

[Sobbing]

Lieutenant, we're very sorry about your son.

I've said that line so many times.

Never imagined I'd hear it.

I know you have things to attend to.

We appreciate your coming out.

So where are we on this-- on this guy?

Ballistics are in.

The slug that hit your son was from a Les Baer Prowler.

That's a high-end p*stol.

A precision sh*t from 100 yards away.

We're dealing with a pro.

Esoteric w*apon and b*llet.

Does that mean anything to you?

The g*n's old school.

Your son, my partner.

Somebody's mad at us... from something back in the day.

Do either of you have any idea who could've held a grudge?

From Brooklyn Narcotics, 15 years ago?

All scum, all the time.

Then we go over every old case.

We're gonna need contacts for everybody in the unit, see if anybody's come after him recently.

Let me make a call to my old partner Luis.

He took a b*llet meant for me.

How is Luis?

I don't even know.

I lost contact.

[Knock at door]

It's the police.

Fin, you son of a bitch!

Long time.

Hey, it's been way too long.

Good to see you, man.

This is my man Nick Amaro.

Hey, man.

Come on in.

Gloria! Three tall boys for New York's finest.

Gloria, your daughter?

25 now.

She moved back in to help me out.

So how you been, man?

Tough year.

Lots of medical bills.

Fighting these bastards over nickels.

But you're on disability, right?

Long story.

But you didn't come here to hear my violins.

This is about the lieutenant's son?

Yeah, and...

Fin's partner Rollins took a b*llet-- same sh**t, same day.

We think someone's coming after us.

We came here to tell you to keep your daughter and your wife real close.

Rita passed eight months ago.

Cancer. They thought they'd gotten it all.

Oh, man, I'm sorry.

I didn't know.

Fin!

Gloria. Wow!

[Laughing]

Here, dad.

Last time I saw you, you were a little tomboy in coveralls.

She's still a tomboy.

Straight out of the army into the police academy.

She'll make first grade before either one of you.

Dad.

Good for you.

They think some scumbag is sh**ting people involved with our old unit.

You sure?

Don't worry, sweetie.

They're not coming after the gimpy ones.

Stop.

What about Escobar?

He did sh**t you once.

He had another parole hearing a few months back, right before Christmas.

Did he get out?

No.

Not for nothing, but you'd know that if you'd been there.

You know, I really meant to, but... it was Christmas time.

I had a lot of family stuff going on.

Maybe next time, Fin.

Escobar.

He was top of the food chain.

He could still have reach from prison.

How long did it take?

Two years.

We worked our way through hundreds of dealers, runners, ki-and-ounce men to get to him.

He sh*t Luis.

You said the b*llet was meant for you?

Yeah.

We were making our last buy from Escobar.

Somebody must've ratted me out.

Next thing I know, I got a .38 to the back of my head.

Luis jumped in.

The g*n went off.

He got hit twice... in the hip and the knee.

I left Narcotics that day.

That wasn't your fault.

Yeah, just like it wasn't my fault with Rollins.

Do yourself a favor, Nick.

Walk behind me.

[Buzzer]

Well, well, well.

If it isn't Mr. Lucky.

His partner doesn't tackle me...

I would've blown off his head with my .38.

You really think bragging to cops about sh**ting cops is a good idea?

What are you gonna do?

Send me to prison?

I heard your new partner got sh*t in front of the precinct.

What do you know about my partner?

The blondie?

What I saw on TV.

She looked real pretty... bleeding in your arms.

If I found out you sh*t her, I'll k*ll you in front of the whole yard!

You think this CO's gonna stop me?

I been here 15 years.

Who do you think they work for?

Oye, amigo, we're going through your visitors, your friends, your family.

We're gonna be up inside you so deep... you won't be able to walk straight.

Door!

[Buzzer]

He pimps out the newbies for sex.

He runs the dr*gs, the cell phones.

His friends on the outside supply him?

We cut out his phone calls, we reduced his visitors.

Nothing seems to slow him down.

You try locking him in the hole?

He hit us with a bunch of lawsuits because of inhumane treatment due to his health issues.

Health issues?

Yeah, asthma.

Clinic nurse backed his claim.

But it turns out he turned her too.

We fired her after he got her pregnant.

She ever visit?

Yeah, she brings their little boy.

Okay, so I broke the rules.

But it was worth it.

I have Benito, Jr.

Looks like a sweet little guy.

His father's great with him.

You don't know what he's really like.

Well, two people have been sh*t, Ana.

People that are connected to the police officers who put your boyfriend Escobar away.

So?

So we need to know whether or not he's involved.

If he's not, we move on.

How could he be involved?

He spends 23 hours a day in a tiny cell.

He can't any phone calls, and they censor his mail.

When you go visit him, does he ask you to relay messages?

When I visit him, he plays with Benito, Jr.

We talk about feeding his son on a part-time job and food stamps.

And that's it?

Keep us alive, avoiding being homeless.

Yeah, that's kind of a full-time conversation.

Come on, Benito.

Come on, baby.

The nurse Ana lied.

Checked her phone records.

After visits to Escobar, she called a member of his old crew.

Calvin "Pearlie" Jones.

I know this dude.

He did eight years for selling blow.

He's probably back on the streets.

He looks like a punk.

This guy's a marksman?

He used to be Escobar's middle man.

Maybe he hired out.

I got him.

All right, take Benson.

Listen, I talked to Rollins this morning.

She's gonna be there for a few more days.

She's picked up an infection.

She's gonna be okay though.

Well, that's the thing about hospitals.

Longer you stay, the sicker you get.

Find out who did this.

Come on, Fin.

Oh, yeah.

Right there, I like that.

Ladies!

I need the room.

What the--oh, hell, no.

Pearlie, huh?

Some things never change.

I got sciatica.

What's that, Thai... for happy ending?

Uh-huh. Gotcha.

What do we got over here?

Come on, man.

You know I can't carry.

I'm on parole.

Parole?

Oh! Not for long.

Unless you wanna tell us why Escobar's girlfriend called you.

Whatever it was, I told that bitch I wasn't interested, brah.

Dude is crazy.

Crazy enough to put out hits on NYPD?

Crazy enough.

You come in here and wanna bust me for a g*n you planted?

Man, do your thing, dog.

Damn!

Now you wanna talk about Escobar?

You want me to talk?

Listen, this man will peel my face off, sew it onto a soccer ball, and kick it into my mother's yard.

So might as well go ahead and sh**t me.

'Cause I ain't no snitch.

Who's the sh**t?

Nobody I know, man.

[Grunts]

Who's the sh**t?

Your partner's crazy, man!

[Grunts]

You're gonna go down for this, man!

Yeah?

You're scaring me.

[Grunts]

Pick his punk ass up!

Come on!

You love your son?

You love your son?

You touch my boy, I swear to God I'll k*ll you.

I'm about to take this and dig your eyeballs out of your head.

You will never see your boy again.

Just do it.

No, man, come--

[Buzzer]

Hey--

Noah, we just need a few more minutes.

Yeah, well, I got some news.

What?

That nurse... the one he knocked up, she just got sh*t.

Ana?

Yeah.

She's dead.

One sh*t.

Straight through the head.

No, man.

No, man!

That's all I got, man.

[Sobbing]

All I got.

Please, Lord.

[Sobbing]

Escobar's girlfriend gets k*lled.

Does that clear him?

He really seemed broken up.

And his boy was with her.

He wouldn't risk him getting hurt.

The mother's dead, the father's in jail, Benito, Jr. is gonna go into foster care.

There's no way that Escobar would want that.

Lieutenant Eames, thanks for stopping by.

This is the third sh**ting?

Looking at the same MO?

One .45, full metal jacket, fired from a project window 100 yards away.

Still waiting for the ballistics on the g*n.

Housing project?

So any surveillance?

That's why I'm here.

You may have caught a break.

That project's near a power plant that's under joint terrorism task force surveillance.

TARU's going over it frame by frame.

Great, so in the meantime, we're looking for somebody with a grudge against NYPD and Escobar.

A rival g*ng.

Fin, anybody come to mind?

We'd just broken the back of Little Will Mora's g*ng.

There was a full-scale turf w*r going on.

Your old partner Luis mentioned keeping notes on your cases.

Yeah, you know the type.

He liked to write things down when he got home.

I was never into leaving a paper trail.

Well, go take a look at his.

Somebody took out Escobar's girl in broad daylight?

That's badass.

Well, the good thing is the t*rror1st task force has that whole area on video locked down.

So we're sure to get a solid pic.

Till then, we're looking for gangsters who didn't like Escobar.

Could be Bautista and his Dominican g*ng.

They had beef over turf in East New York.

But we put them away too.

[Cell phone chimes]

You got any other leads?

The sh**t was dead-on from 100 yards with a Les Baer Prowler.

A Les Baer?

Mm-hmm.

A new one?

No.

They just tracked it down.

This is strange.

"Last reported used in a Brighton Beach g*ng sh**ting in '97."

'97?

You mean some guy keeps it in his dresser since then and pulls it out now?

Les Baer.

Brighton Beach.

Yeah, doesn't ring a bell.

What about that Russian mobster Petrovich?

Remember him, Luis?

Oh, yeah.

Those Russian cats.

The names are kinda hazy.

Let me find that box, get back to you.

Okay. Will do.

So Escobar warred with two gangs.

Which one of 'em is on the hook for this?

Neither.

Bautista's gone, so is his g*ng.

Petrovich and his people are back in Moscow, smuggling weapons, sex trafficking.

Life is great for them.

So how does a g*n from one of their hits surface now?

Fin, do you remember the hit?

It wasn't my case.

They took down a rival dealer.

Luis worked with two Ukrainian undercovers.

Is there any way that Luis would look the other way for either one of them?

Maybe pocketing a piece.

Never going after one of our own.

I saw Luis' face when we told him it a Les Baer.

I mean, it hit a nerve.

Okay.

Okay, Fin, you go sound out Luis.

You two track down the UCs.

Petrovich go back to mother Russia?

All of his people are either dead of behind bars.

Or billionaires.

[Laughing]

Maybe we should've worked for him when we had the chance.

I been wondering if anybody else ever did.

How's that?

Remember those two Ukrainian UCs, Lisko and Mastel?

NYPD says they're off the grid.

You ever hear from them?

Once.

They sent me a condolence card when Rita passed.

They're in Europe, working for lnterpol or something.

Fin...

I spent more time with you than I did with my wife.

Now you wanna ask me something.

Why don't you just ask it?

Okay.

That Les Baer p*stol.

Think one of those guys might've picked it up?

No. No way.

How can you be so sure?

'Cause I did.

Anything else you wanna ask me?

I been trying to get a sh*t on Rollins for weeks, I heard about the perp walk.

I fired from a rooftop across the street from the precinct.

How'd you even get up there?

Rollins.

What are you doing here?

Well, I'm all caught up on Duck Dynasty.

I had to get out of there.

Heard about the lieutenant's son, I'm sorry.

That's your old partner?

Yeah.

That rooftop, from 100 yards?

Army sn*per.

Best in my class.

Then that night, same sh*t.

The lieutenant's son.

Rooftop across from his apartment.

Ana Tejada?

Fifth floor landing.

I wanted to wait... till she put her little boy down, but I had to fire... before somebody came.

One sh*t each time.

One for each wrong.

Okay, those wrongs...

Tell me about those wrongs.

Escobar put me on disability.

I lost my job.

My wife didn't get the medical attention she deserved.

Dies in pain.

And he gets conjugal visits and his son is on medicaid?

How is that right?

Okay.

I get that.

But... why sh**t Rollins?

I mean, you never even met her.

Fin turned his back on me.

He didn't come to my wife's funeral, but he's got time for her.

I'm sorry about this, Amanda.

I didn't see it coming.

Maybe if I'd have went and seen him more, gone to the parole hearing.

I don't know.

Are you sure he's our guy?

Please don't go Amaro on me.

He's got motive.

He's knows all the details about the sh**t.

He's also got a police scanner.

The guy that sh*t me disappeared fast from a roof.

He's on disability.

Amanda, he handed me the g*n.

Doesn't meant he's the sh**t.

Anyone else have access to the w*apon?

I don't know, his daughter Gloria.

How old is she?

25.

She's in the police academy.

Her mother just d*ed.

She was having problems with the insurance.

Come on, everybody has problems with the insurance.

I'm sick that it's him, but we got our man.

There's something else.

The motives, it just--

Well, he's angry.

You heard him.

Yeah, at Fin, at Escobar, the lieutenant.

Then how come none of them are the ones that got hit?

The targets are always next of kin, partners.

You know, maybe she is trying to make the people she's angry at hurt the way she got hurt when her father got sh*t.

Not Gloria.

She's a sweet kid.

Oh, boy.

Did you know she was kicked out of the academy on psychological two months ago?

Luis would've told us that.

Well, maybe he didn't know.

The Les Baer.

When he heard about the g*n, he must've pieced it together.

He took a b*llet for you.

Don't you think he'd take one for his daughter?

Let's find her and find out.

[Sirens blaring]

That Gloria's car?

Yeah.

With a burnt body inside.

That her?

Maybe.

Or she wants us to think it is.

And she's somewhere out there.

Gloria Montero is 25.

She was recently expelled from the police academy.

She's army trained.

Took a general discharge two years ago.

The body inside the car has been identified as Yolanda Brooks, a traffic enforcement agent who ticketed Montero's vehicle.

Montero's a highly efficient marksman.

Daughter of a retired detective.

She knows how we think, how we work.

She's known to have purchased several a*t*matic weapons in Philly at a g*n show after her dismissal from the academy.

We have a report of a white delivery van, stolen in the area.

We have the plate number out on the license recognition system.

She is to be considered armed and dangerous.

Here you are.

What's this?

You're free to go, Detective.

You can't release me.

I confessed.

I'm the sh**t.

Book me.

Come on, Luis.

It's over, man.

We got Gloria on video.

This is her leaving the scene where Escobar's girlfriend was sh*t.

So what?

So we get it, that's why you confessed.

You knew we'd go through that footage, find her eventually.

I confessed because I did it.

I took a b*llet.

Got screwed by the department.

I lost my wife.

Yeah, and Gloria-- she lost her mother, right?

Gloria was ten when you got sh*t.

Yes. About that.

It must have been pretty devastation for your daughter.

Depressed dad, disabled dad most of her life.

Then her mother gets sick.

She gets stressed out.

She falls apart.

Army doesn't help, they kick her out.

It wasn't dishonorable.

She got herself into the academy.

Yeah, and when her mother d*ed, she got bounced back out.

You lied to us about that.

I just found out.

When?

When you confronted her about the Les Baer?

'Cause last night, we found her car burnt out in Queens with the body of a traffic officer inside.

Okay, we appreciate that you're trying to protect your daughter.

But right now, she is the target of a massive manhunt.

ESU, NYPD-- they're going after somebody who sh*t a cop.

You know that doesn't end well.

Those things you said, that's not my daughter.

Okay?

That's not my daughter.

I know my rights.

You wanna keep talking, I want a lawyer.

Luis give us anything?

He's still claiming his guilt.

Which means he's trying to buy time for his daughter.

Hey, we got a sighting!

We got a sighting!

Missing white van heading south on Woodhaven Boulevard.

She going to the airport?

She'll never get on a plane.

Or Howard Beach, the hospital.

Hospital? That's been closed since Hurricane Sandy.

That's where her mother d*ed.

Okay, you two, go!

Yes.

Everybody, listen up.

We have a report--

[Sirens blaring]

You find Gloria?

No, but she was here.

Security guard.

One b*llet to the head.

Clean, through the glass.

Must've sh*t her way inside.

[Sirens blaring]

It's a big complex.

Let's start with the oncology ward.

[Faint talking in distance]

[Whiserping]

Do you hear something?

It's this way.

Gloria?

My name is Gloria Christina Montero.

I consider myself a good person, a loving daughter, and a responsible citizen.

The actions I have taken are a last resort to address the unconscionable mistreatment that my family has suffered at the hands of the NYPD and other bureaucracies.

In October of 1998, my father, detective Luis Rafa Montero, was sh*t multiple times during an undercover operation.

Drug lord Benito Escobar was about to assassinate Detective Odafin Tutuola, when my father heroically threw himself on the w*apon and saved his partner's life.

My father was given a disability retirement, but he never recovered.

He fell into a depression and began drinking.

In the spring of 2007, my mother was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer.

When I asked the army for time off to deal with my mother's declining health, they told me that due to my "inability to perform my duties"

I would be offered a general discharge.

To help cover the cost of my mother's medical bills, my father took a security job.

His former lieutenant, Toni Anne Howard, upon discovering this, informed on him to the department, who then terminated his disability benefits.

As a result, we could not afford medical treatments that would have saved my mother's life.

Eventually, we lost our home, as well.

She passed away, in this room, in physical pain and emotional distress, in August of 2012.

A month later, I entered the police academy.

I was, however, still depressed over my mother's death and my father's decline.

The academy, rather than offer help, expelled me without due process.

All of you who have destroyed my life will soon know what it is like to lose a loved one.

I have police and m*llitary training.

I know your tactics.

Do not try to stop me.

She's not picking up the land line.

Do we even know up if she's inside?

No visual confirmation.

She's pulled the blinds.

We have eyes in the backyard, the house across the street.

We're working on handheld infrared.

Her father swears there's no second home, no other family in her life.

We've got unmarked cars in front of her apartment and the police academy.

She's a loner--no friends, not a lot of places she can go.

Okay, the security footage from the hospital parking confirms that it is a grey Ford Explorer.

It is the car that she left the hospital in.

One other thing.

Her father says she has a police scanner app on her cell phone.

Keep the chatter to a minimum.

Where's Captain Cragen?

Mr. Hamill.

The fugitive's in my house?

We're not sure.

She was reported driving a car that's across the street.

Oh, my God.

What would this woman want with us?

She used to live in your house.

I have to go in there!

Whoa, whoa!

That's not happening right now, Mr. Hamill.

Listen, we need you to try to call your wife.

Nobody is picking up the landline.

When was the last time you tried her?

On the way here, four times.

I have to go in--

Just... try dialing again, Mr. Hamill.

Would you do that?

[Phone ringing]

I should pick it up.

It's my husband.

He's gonna be worried.

Don't move!

[Phone ringing]

Please just let my little boy go, please.

[Boy crying]

Be quiet!

Who is this?

I'd just like to speak to my wife.

Find out if everyone's okay.

Oh, you got a hostage negotiator there?

She telling you what to say?

My wife is pregnant.

Please just tell me if she's all right.

She's got a nice house.

She's fine.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know it was your house.

It's not mine, it's my father's.

I wanna talk to him.

You can talk to her, but that's all.

Can I at least try to go in?

They won't let you.

Captain.

Keep her calm.

Tell her we'll wait as long as they need to.

If they need anything-- food--

Gloria, honey.

Hi, daddy.

Hey, what are you doing?

I really screwed up.

No! No, no, baby.

Just, um-- just let those people out, okay?

They'll sh**t me like a dog if I do.

No, no, no, sweetie.

Listen to me.

I'm not gonna let anybody do that to you.

They won't even let you come in to see me.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

No, it's not your fault.

It's mine, okay?

It's mine.

I put too much on you.

I-I didn't see what it was doing to you.

It is not your fault, daddy.

It's his.

Is he with you?

Who?

Fin.

The one you took a b*llet for.

Yeah.

Yeah, baby, he's here.

I have a g*n on the little boy.

Mommy!

[Crying]

You tell him to come inside or I'll sh**t the boy and his mother.

We can wait this out.

Till she sh**t 'em?

We'll be listening in.

We'll have backup adjacent.

We can be through that door in seconds.

I can handle it.

Fin.

You know none of this is on you, right?

Do I?

Gloria, it's just me.

Lock the door!

Okay, the door's locked.

[Boy crying]

Put the g*n down, Gloria.

Good idea.

Wait let me sh**t them first.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Don't sh**t them, okay?

If you're gonna sh*t anybody, sh**t me.

Oh, I will.

Go ahead, get it over with.

I'm the one that deserves it.

You feeling guilty?

You sound like you want me to sh**t you.

I was supposed to die 15 years ago from a b*llet to the head.

Okay, the one that your father took.

The way I look at it, I been playing with house money.

Your father's a good man, Gloria.

If it wasn't for him, I would've never saw my son grow up.

Because of you and the NYPD, my father lost everything.

This house, my mother.

What happened to your family, I didn't know.

I should have.

I should have stayed in touch.

You didn't call, you didn't care.

You didn't even know my mother was sick.

I didn't wanna talk to your father, okay?

You're right, I was guilty.

I didn't wanna think that what happened to him could've been me.

Gloria, I can't undo what happened.

I can't make it better.

But I am sorry.

You should tell my father that.

We can both do it.

He's right outside.

Come on, just put the g*n down.

Give it to me.

I don't wanna let them k*ll you.

Okay?

Let me take you outside.

I'll be your bodyguard.

Come on.

[Boy sobbing]

No.

They'll take you out too.

I'm not getting out of here alive.

And neither are they.

[Grunts]

[g*nsh*t]

[Scream]

Go, go, go!

[Both struggling]

[Door busts open]

NYPD!

Okay, don't sh**t, don't sh**t!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Don't sh**t!

Nobody's hurt.

Nobody's hurt.

Let me take her out.

Come on, let's go.

I got her.

[Sniffles]

[Sobbing]

Dad...

I--

Luis, I'm sorry about everything.

No. She's alive.

Thank you.

Daddy! Daddy!

Tommy!

Tommy, come here.

Fin.

Amanda!

You shouldn't even be here.

Once I heard you went inside, I had to come.

You were there for me when--

When you took the b*llet for me?

Yeah, you'd do the same.

It's what partners do.

[Engine starts]

Yeah.