02x06 - The Mombasa Cartel

[bunniefuu]

(Chickens clucking)

(Goats bleating)

(Bleating continues)

(Vehicle approaching)

You are Samwel Zuma?

I am.

I heard you have a big mouth.

No!

(All shout)

Oh! Oh!

(g*nsh*t)

(Crying)

(g*nsh*t)

(Poirier's "Bang Bang" plays)

(Indistinct singing)

♪ Bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang, yeah ♪
♪ bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang bang, bang ♪

(Indistinct singing)

(Knock on door) Man: Service de chambre.

Come!

♪ bang, bang ♪

(Singing continues)

Good morning, Mr. Batouala.

Will you be dining at the table this morning?

In bed, I think.

Very good, sir.

(Singing continues)

(Grunts)

♪ Bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang ♪
♪ bang, bang ♪

(Indistinct singing)

(Breathing heavily)

(Dog whines)

S02E06
The Mombasa Cartel

Man: Tigers in India have become less abundant in recent years due to excessive hunting.

The remaining big cats are now concentrated in tiny, isolated groups, leading to inbreeding, which weakens their resistane to disease.</i>

(Television clicks off) So nostalgic.

The charming and yet tragic naiveté, as if these creatures will somehow flourish if Harlan and Jack can (Chuckling) just manage to relocate a breeding female.

The Mombasa Cartel.

Poachers?

Not poachers, Lizzy... traffickers.

Red: The poor devils who do the k*lling are the smallest of cogs in a very large machine.

And the Mombasa Cartel is the worst of the lot.

They operate behind an impenetrable veil of secrecy, enforced by brute terror and a rat's nest of corporate fronts...

Subsidiaries of shells inside numbered accounts.

This is going to take some convincing.

The FBI's job is to protect people.

Granted.

Let's forget about the animals for a moment...

The wholesale extinctions, the impact on the environment.

Let's just consider the human toll...

The thorough corruption of local authorities, political assassinations, the massacres of entire villages and wildlife compounds...

Eradicated for the most base of all possible motives...

Profit.

Hundreds of billions of dollars a year in blood money... human blood money.

This is important to you.

Someday the creatures on that program will be akin to unicorns and griffins...

A fairy-tale bestiary written in past tense, and no one is lifting a finger to stop it.

Why not, Lizzy?

Why not us?

Pharmacist: I'm sorry, this is a controlled class medication.

I can't refill it without a prescription.

And I told you, you're... You're not refilling it... You're replacing it.

The pills were stolen from my car.

You file a police report?

Yeah. Yeah. Of course I did.

Look... I'll get in touch with my doctor.

I'll, uh, I'll be right back.

Next.

Over the last few years, high-ranking poachers have disappeared without a trace from the Jalloh and Yeboah clans, the Bholas in India, and the Rocha Cartel in Bolivia.

Now, no one's taken credit yet, but according to Reddington, the Mombasa Cartel is working to corner the illegal-wildlife trade.

Sorry.

Four days ago, a dead body washed up south of Petropavlovsk on the Kamchatka Peninsula...

Flayed and skinned with surgical precision, according to the local medical examiner.

Does the victim have a name?

Joseph Batouala...

Kenyan, part of the Wanjiku Cartel, the alleged mastermind behind the 2013 elephant m*ssacre at Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe.

The park's watering holes were dosed with cyanide, k*lling 300 elephants and thousands of other animals.

And this is the work of our victim?

Meera: Victims...

High-ranking officials from half a dozen other cartels have also disappeared.

According to Reddington, these gangs are just small fish in a very big pond.

By far, the most destructive is the Mombasa Cartel.

(Cellphone vibrates)

Reddington. I have to take this.

They are ruthless, secretive, and highly organized.

It's estimated that the Mombasa Cartel smuggles about a billion dollars in contraband per year, from Ivory and Hides to the illegal import of exotic pets to traditional folk remedies.

Remedies. For what?

Anything... from blindness to erectile dysfunction.

For instance, in Vietnam, the horn of a rhinoceros is believed to cure cancer, so it commands a price of about $9,000 per gram.

Where was Batouala last seen alive?

Hotel d'Argent, Paris.

Paris.

And yet his body washes ashore on the russian coast?

(Door hinges creak)

(Beeping)

(Motor whirs)

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

Do you want to tell Reddington, or should I?

♪ Run from me, darlin'</i> ♪
♪ Run, my good wife</i> ♪
♪ Run from me, darlin'</i> ♪
♪ you better run for your life</i> ♪

(Door opens, closes)

♪ And each time I see you</i> ♪

I contemplate</i> ♪

Oh, Matthew.

That's the best one yet.

♪ What I love most of all</i> ♪

He's... he's beautiful.

♪ Your swingin' gaze</i> ♪
♪ run from me, baby</i> ♪

Red: I've arranged drinks for you with Geoff Perl.

Liz: Who will be joining us? Bill Gates Warren Buffett?

No, just you and Geoff.

Despite being the 33rd richest man on the planet and the C.E.O of Deckard Capital, Geoff is a passionat advocate for wildlife protection.

He's also an expert on the illegal-animal trade.

If anyone knows anything about the Mombasa Cartel, it'll be Geoff.

I'm sorry. I'm still getting past the whole "you're buddies with Geoff Perl" thing.

We're not buddies. I don't have buddies.

Geoff and I simply share a number of interests...

Among them, the protection of endangered animals.

I act as a bundler for his charities.

And what does he do in return?

Nothing nefarious, I assure you.

Advice, information, the occasional stock tip.

One hand washes the other.

There we go.

Queen to B4. Check.

Your name is Judy Trierweiler.

You're an activist, investigative reporter, researching an exposé on the Mombasa Cartel.

You post under the screen name "Elsa."

And when is this happening?

Tonight at La Porte Rouge,

18th street and Columbia, 10:00-ish.

Dress down.

What is it?

Uh, Trierweiler, right?

Judy Trierweiler, aka "Elsa."

You all right?

(Rock music plays)

(Rock music continues)

(Music ends) (Cheers and applause)

Geoff Perl.

You must be Elsa.

Seen your posts. Like your style.

A friend tells me you want some inside dope on the Mombasa Cartel.

I've had a hard time getting a toehold.

Welcome to the party.

My foundation's had the mombasas in our sights since our inception...

Public enemy number one, the worst of the worst and very smart.

The crafty bastards at the top keep their hands clean by financing their wet work through a hundred shells and offshores.

Never been able to cr*ck that firewall.

If you want to give it a try...

Mm.

Got to warn you, though... It could be very dangerous.

I can handle myself.

I'm sure you can.

I wager you can handle just about anything.

I knew Geoff would adore you.

You're a dead ringer for the last two of his three wives.

Oh? What did his first one look like?

More like me than you, I'm afraid.

Geoff is a savant of sorts...

Married into a small fortune, built it into Deckard.

Sits on the boards of half a dozen tech companies, owns a big piece of all of them.

Then plows millions into animal-related causes.

What did he have on the Mombasas?

Just one access point...

Lee Chung, Emerson-Concorde Imports.

(Siren wails)

(Tires screech)

Who are you? Why you do this?

Liz: FBI.

We were wondering if you wouldn't mind assisting us in an investigation we're conducting.

What kind of investigation?

The kind of investigation where, if you don't help us out, I just yell, "g*n!" And we b*at your ass to the curb.

I'm unarmed.

You gonna cooperate?

Please say "no."

What?

Nothing.

You were late to work again.

You seem a little edgy.

I'm fine. Thanks, mom.

Liz: Chung's business specializes in the importation of game meats and animal parts from endangered species.

He's willing to roll over on everyone else but claims he doesn't know anything about the Mombasa Cartel.

You show him the contraband customs had tagged in his warehouse?

Yeah. And the estimated fees Aram worked up.

It's a lot.

Plus 112 charges pending.

And that didn't rattle him? (Beeping)

Whoa, oh, flag up. Looks like we got another one.

Pulled up this morning in a fisherman's net in Hokkaido, Japan... same M.O... skinned.

A local M.E. I.D.'d him from the serial numbers found on an artificial hip... Alejandro Gomez, Bolivian.

Liz: Rocha Cartel?

According to Bolivian police and WCS, rumors are that Gomez worked for...

The Mombasa Cartel. Chung broke.

It turns out our original victim was not with the Wanjiku Cartel.

He defected a year ago to the Mombasas. Somebody's poaching the poachers.

Man:[i]Tell him what you said.</i>

Man 2:[i]I said you wouldn't be alone.</i>

(Cellphone rings) [i]Like they care.

She say anything? Yeah, she's waiting now.

Do you want me to go get her and let her tell you herself?</i>

Yep.

Liz: Thanks for the 24-hour reprieve.

I met with Reddington yesterday.

You told him?

I started to, but... no, I didn't.

That's too bad. It would've been better coming from you.

I hope you understand I don't have a choice.

Neither do I.

Freeze! On the ground!

(Handcuffs click)

Your father called.

He found another "friend" for Matthew.

(Sighs)

(Tailgate slams)

I just got back.

Oh, dear lord.

Listen to you go on.

I'm the one who does all the abductions.

I'm the one who takes all the risks while the two of you sit around and...

We're a family.

Everyone does his part.

The poachers your father identifies deserve what they get.

You should be proud to help him...

And to help your brother, too.

I know it's hard.

But you know I love you.

Peter... my rock.

Hey! Hey, mister!

You forgot...

(Chuckling) My hat.

Oh, my gosh.

I can't believe I forgot it. It's my favorite.

Thank you.

I'm sorry. What's your name?

Zoe.

Zoe.

Thank you so much, Zoe.

Oh, no, really. I can't.

No, no, no. Please. I insist.

No, I'm good.

All right, then.

I'm Kenneth, by the way... Kenneth Rathers.

Hello, Kenneth.

Thank you again, Zoe.

I am quite fond of this hat.

Let me see.

Very snappy, Kenneth. Later!

Taking into account estimated time of death, I-I've programmed a simulation illustrating point of origin by running the tidal and ocean-current data for the dates our two floaters washed up in Japan and Russia.

Check it out.

The orange one is Gomez. And as you can see, both bodies were dumped somewhere off the coast of Sitka, Alaska.

Sitka was the location of the animal underground network, a militant animal-rights group.

"Was"?

Yes.

In 1971, their leader, Timothy Carlyle, along with six others, were tried and convicted on five counts of homicide for stalking and k*lling grizzly poachers up at Katmai National Park.

I remember that case.

Became a bit of a cause célèbre, as I recall.

Yes, the Sitka Seven.

Seven... why's it always seven?

After the bust, the whole thing imploded.

By all accounts, the rest of the group were more or less hangers-on... Flakes, useful idiots.

Go deep on animal underground.

See what became of every member of the group...

Arrests, activities, associates...

Especially those still in Sitka.

What about chung?

Cut him loose.

Put a tail on him and see where he leads us.

Ressler, get packed.

I want you in Sitka for face-time with anyone samar turns up.

[i]He's been on the FBI's ten most wanted list for years, but authorities may be finally closing in on notorious international criminal Raymond "Red" Reddington.

Acting on an anonymous tip, police arrested a man they say is a close associate of Reddington's and who may be able to lead them to the elusive concierge of crime.</i>

(Television clicks off)

Was all this really necessary?

Tell you what.

How about I find someone to follow[i] you</i> around 24-7 and see how you like it?

You know as well as I this has nothing to do with being followed.

This is about being found out.

You're hiding something.

Why else risk my capture?

Ezra's not gonna talk.

I know that, but you didn't.

And now you're holding him in a cement box under a no-contact order.

Congratulations, Lizzy.

You've plugged the hole, but the dam will fail.

It's only a matter of time.

(Insects chirping)

♪ Run from me, baby</i> ♪

Rosemary: Come on, buttercup.

You just know we're gonna wear this old thing out if we keep playing it.

How about "Wheels on the bus"?

Okay.

Peter's coming tomorrow.

He's bringing a new friend for you to play with. isn't that great?

Ho-ho-ho! (Laughs)

Look at you, Kris Kringle!

Time to get out now, before you shrivel up like a raisin.

♪ Your swingin' gaze ♪

My, my.

Look at my big boy!

(Pill bottle opens)

(Breathing heavily)

(Breathes deeply)

(Grunts)

Aah!

(Breathes sharply, grunts)

(Pills rattling)

(Cellphone ringing)

Ressler.

Chung disappeared this morning.

Somebody sh*t the agent surveilling him with a tranquilizer dart.

Do you think he might have been abducted?

Possibly. We're not sure. He might have fled.

We flagged his passport.

We're tracking all international flights.

We'll keep you posted.

At this point, the closest former animal underground members that we could find are in Anchorage.

Any prospects?

Outside of one arrest for possession 15 years ago, they look clean.

The Ranch.

Oh, yeah.

And make a run out to... Igaluk Ranch.

It's the former location of their commune.

Property was picked up at auction after the big bust by Wendigo, LLC.

I'll check it out.

The two vics were skinned antemortem.

Presuming Sitka is the dumping site...

They were transported alive.

You think sedated?

No doubt, but, still, customs, security...

Someone would have...

But, plus, how did they get onto a commercial flight without proper documentation?

Unless you don't fly commercial.

Homeland security is loathe to inconvenience the rich and powerful.

Pull information on private jets departing the same days our victims were abducted.

Crosscheck tail numbers.

See if you can find a pattern.

(Engine shuts off)

(Clinking)

Hello?

(Rumbling in distance)

Private property.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know anyone was here.

Well, now you do.

There's signs posted along the road.

You'd best leave.

Donald Ressler. FBI.

You mind if I ask you some questions?

What kind of questions?

About the former owners, the animal underground.

You heard of them?

Yeah, a little. They're gone now.

Been gone a long time.

Now it's just us up here.

Us?

Me. My son Peter.

Anyone else?

No.

(Engine shuts off)

Peter: Howdy.

You must be Peter.

Peter Kincaid. And you are?

Donald Ressler.

He's with the FBI.

Oh.

Anything you can tell me about the former owners?

(Sighs) (Chuckling)

Never met them.

A bunch of them went to jail... Right?... long time ago.*

Sorry you came all the way out here for nothing.

(Chuckles) That's okay.

Thanks for the cooperation.

Yep.

What do you have there?

Goat.

Didn't the people who used to be here have a bunch of goats?

(Chuckles) Lots of people got goats.

You mind if I take a look?

Just watch your fingers. He bites.

Aah!

Paris... two hours after Batouala disappears, a chartered citation, CJ3S, leaves a private airstrip outside the city.

Sao Paulo... another citation departs 45 minutes after Alejandro Gomez is abducted.

Same pilots?

Well, I got two different names here, but both check out as bogus, so I'd say yes.

He's comfortable behind the stick of a citation.

Why change horses?

Right.

So I checked local airports and got a third hit. (Keys clacking)

Another citation, which departed yesterday from Westchester at 5:12 p.m.

Chung.

Did they file a flight plan?

Bogus.

Uh, all over the map... Uh, Tokyo, Dubai, Paris.

Who chartered the planes?

Three separate jets, three separate companies...

One domiciled in Oslo, uh, the second in Belgium, uh, the third in South Africa.

But they all share a common corporate parent...

Or should I say a common corporate "second uncle cousin sister once removed"?

What do you know about a company called Wendigo, LLC?

Wendigo.

What have you found that connects him to the cartel?

Not sure. All we know is Wendigo controls chartered jets used in the abductions and they own a piece of property in the same area where the bodies were dumped in the ocean... Sitka, Alaska.

Used to be a commune for a group called animal underground.

Ressler went up there to ask some questions.

He's fallen out of contact.

Anchorage division's scrambling HRT, and Samar and I are set to rendezvous with them in Juneau.

In the meantime, if you can dig up any names behind Wendigo...

Lizzy, be careful up there.

(Cellphone beeps)

There's been a change of plans.

(Dramatic music plays)

(Grunting)

Did you call in?

What is happening?

Is anybody gonna come?

What the hell is that music?

(Music continues)

No one's here.

They left us to die.

Remember, Matty, only the animals that are tagged.

Happy hunting. I'll be at the house with mom.

(Music stops)

(Insects chirping)

(Clicks, door hinges creak)

(Grunts)

Hey! Stop! Stop!

Where the hell are you running?!

(Panting)

Where are we? What do you know?

Nothing. I don't know anything.

Like you, I just... (Howl in distance)

How long did it take?

To get here from the Ranch...

How long did it take?

10, 15 minutes... no more.

I passed a gas station on the highway east of here.

If we can get back to it...

Ohh. What's the matter with you?

I'm fine. Nothing.

You looking for your pills?

They took them. They took everything.

(Coughs)

(Breathing heavily)

What are you... a junkie?

You're a cop. (Grunts)

(Grunts)

I'm not a junkie.

That what all junkies say.

(Arrow fires, strikes)

(Coughs)

(Howls)

I've been trying to reach you for six hours.

Man: You know this is when I meditate.

A man from the FBI showed up asking questions.

Peter had to take him out.

What?

He had no choice. He saw Chung.

Is he dead?

Well, he will be.

We gave him to Matthew.

Okay, listen to me.

This time can't be like the others...

No skinning, no stuffing, no evidence.

Tell Peter. He'll know what to do.

Matthew won't like that.

I don't care if Matthew likes it.

I should have tipped off the police when he began his little hobby.

And have him locked up in some hellhole?

He wouldn't have lasted a month, and you know it.

He's a child.

He's your child.

I know that.

(Breathes sharply)

Tell Peter to call me when it's done.

Namaste, Geoff.

Any intelligence on who's up there?

Two confirmed...

Rosemary, aka "Skye," Kincaid and her son, Peter.

The woman checks out as an associate of animal underground.

Yeah, a local girl... got knocked up by one of their members, a fella they called "Ace."

Her son Pete is an expert guide and tracker.

Anybody else?

There could be.

Word is, Rosie was pregnant again 40 years ago and insisted on giving birth up at the Ranch... refused to come in town.

Social services paid her a visit about eight months in, tried to convince her to change her mind... and reported that she was no longer with child.

People have talked... hunters and whatnot.

And there's been sightings of somebody or something else.

Something?</i>

The rumor is it's Rosie's younger son.

(Insects chirping)

(The Jody Brian Quartet's "Drifting Home To You" play</i>)

FBI. I need to use your phone.

Someone's after me.

Hey.

♪ Drifting on beneath the silver moon</i> ♪

What is this?

♪ To the aisle of gold...</i> ♪

There you are... Sean Salter.

You went by the name "Ace" back then.

You left animal underground two years before the Sitka seven killings and subsequent trials... lucky, that.

But, then, you've always had a talent for well-timed exits.

Well, it seems, Ace, there's still some freaks up there living in the woods, skinning people and dumping them in the bay.

Poachers... not people, responsible for the decimation of hundreds of wild and endangered species.

Yes. Horrific.

And if that was your endgame, I'd be writing you another sizable contribution to keep up the good work.

But that isn't the endgame, is it, Geoff?

You see, before I got involved with your foundation, I ran a comprehensive background check...

All your business interests, corporations...

Among them, a rather innocuous shell called "Wendigo, LLC."

Everything looked fine.

Shame on me.

Turns out Wendigo holds controlling stock in a small but lucrative concern called Emerson-Concorde Imports that you recently identified to a lovely young friend of mine as a front for the Mombasa Cartel.

Why would I k*ll my own people?

You're a businessman.

As long as you were k*lling off the competition, you took the opportunity to clear out deadwood in your own operation.

The evidence of your guilt is convoluted but irrefutable.

I simply cannot fathom the journey, the moral detours necessary to change a man who cherished all creatures great and small into one who profits from their slaughter.

My motives have never been about profits.

I have more money than I'll ever need.

And there's been no journey, no detours.

I'm the same guy I've always been...

I'm a conservationist.

And as you pointed out, I'm a businessman.

I understand the law of supply and demand.

As long as the market exists... And it will always exist... there will be people willing to meet the demand.

It can't be stopped.

It can be controlled.

A natural monopoly.

Exactly.

These cartels are completely out of control.

But through a natural monopoly, the supply curve can be managed.

The short-term demand can be met without threatening the long-term survival of the species.

Geoff... that was... breathtaking... an operatic perversion of righteous intent.

But your strategy, no matter how noble the rhetoric, is betrayed and, inevitably, defined by your actions.

This isn't about conservation... It's about consolidation.

We are what we do, Ace.

What do you want?

A list identifying every member and operative in the Mombasa Cartel, their business entities, and distribution networks.

Or?

Or I sh**t you... here, now.

♪ He's big, he's bad, he's an</i> ♪y*</i>

♪ and he's not gonna take it anymore</i> ♪

Hey, Alejandro.

That's a real sweet song.

♪...head for the do</i> ♪
♪ this guy's got a bone to PK with you</i> ♪
♪[i] and I think he means...</i> ♪

What do you think, Joe?

♪ [i]don't expect him to let you off</i> ♪

Yeah. Me, too.

♪ [i]From now on, you'd better watch your back</i> ♪

(Humming)

♪[i] and protect yourself from ha</i> ♪
♪[i]don't ever let your guard down</i> ♪

(Clattering)

♪ [i]While you're going by the pont</i> ♪

(Grunts)

(Growling)

(Wheezing)

Man: Status?

Man 2: Male subject downstairs.

Female... upstairs bathroom.

♪[i] Run from me, baby</i> ♪
♪[i] you better run for your life</i> ♪
♪[i]What I love most of all</i> ♪

(Footsteps) Already?

I wasn't expecting...

Mama.

♪ [i]your swinging</i> ♪

(Screams)

Man: FBI!

(g*nf*re)

(Indistinct shouting)

Get that window!

Freeze!

Don't cry, buttercup.

Everything's gonna be all right.

No!

(Electricity crackles)

There it is.

That's everything... the whole cartel.

You know, 29 years ago in Sierra Leone, there was a farmer named Samwel Zuma who had the audacity to identify several low-level Mombasa operatives to local authorities.

The cartel massacred the entire family...

All but the youngest son.

He was sold to a local ring of flesh peddlers.

The majority of children in those circumstances don't last more than nine months.

He survived eight years.

He was 14 when I found him...

Too old, too tall, too angry and dangerous to be of any further value.

He was left to die, chained to a standpipe in the basement of a squalid brothel in Nairobi...

Branded, b*rned, barely alive.

So I took him.

Made him well, saw to his education.

He graduated university with a bachelor's degree in english literature.

He speaks four languages fluently and can get by in a half a dozen more.

He is... splendid.

His name is Dembe...

Dembe Zuma.

Raymond... don't.

That was then.

It serves no purpose to k*ll him now.

You see that, Geoff?

That is what a good man does.

That is what separates men like him from men like you... and me.

(Camera shutter clicks)

(Daniel Martin Moore's "Proud As We Are" plays)

♪ Proud as we are ♪
♪ wonderful though it may be ♪
♪ would you believe
♪ this was never me ♪
♪ chase them out ♪

Shovel their footsteps from the way ♪
♪ I turn a blind eye ♪
♪ you do whatever it takes ♪
♪ when the fields come calling me ♪
♪ that old feeling takes hold ♪
♪ we'll spend our time in weightless things ♪
♪ and turn the leaden hour gold ♪
♪ you speak to me ♪
♪ of the clouds and of the sun ♪
♪ but you've know, you never know ♪
♪ what should be left undone ♪

I've been thinking about what to do with you. To tell you the truth, I haven't made a decision yet. (Sighing) The other day was close. I thought about telling Reddington. He'd know what to do.

But the truth is, this is my responsibility...

One way or the other.

I've answered all your questions.

Liz. You can't hide me forever.