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01x03 - The Legend of Marcos

Posted: 10/07/15 07:15
by bunniefuu
My name is Brian Finch. I was your average 28-year-old screwup until I took a pill called NZT. Suddenly, I had access to every brain cell.

Every time he takes it, for the next 12 hours, he basically becomes the smartest person in the world.

Brian: And that's why the FBI hired me.

My name's Brian Finch, this is Rebecca Harris and we're with the FBI.

God, that sounds cool.

There's just one problem.

NZT will k*ll you, unless you have this sh*t.


Now you can have as much NZT as you want with no side effects.

And why would you help me?

Let's just say I need somebody in your position.

You describe to the FBI, or anyone, about these sh*ts...

I will let you die more painfully and slowly than you can fathom.

So, Brian, you ready to become somebody who matters?

Dennis?

Dad?


Dennis.

Dad...

Brian, you saved my life.

Sipiwe: As long as he keeps taking his pills... does everything we tell him to do, just the way we tell him to do it, I think he'll make a full recovery.

Eddie: Every so often, you take one of these sh*ts... and you can have as much NZT as you want, with no side effects.

Dennis: Somehow, you get me a new liver.

There is something that you're not telling me.

You describe it to your parents, to anyone, I will let you die more painfully and slowly than you can fathom.

What are you doing around my dad?

Excuse me? Brian, right?

Don't pretend like we've never met.

We both know you work for him.

So why did he send you here?

Are you threatening my father?

I'm a nurse.

I'm a very good nurse, actually.

Why do you think Mr. Morra uses me?

I'm here to help your father and you.

That sh*t we gave you, it's not gonna last forever.

You're gonna need another one in about a month, and if I'm here, we can take care of that more easily.

Why does Eddie Morra need a plant in the FBI?

What does he want me to do?

I have no idea.

I'm a nurse.

Relax, Brian.

This is a good thing.

And if Mr. Morra wants something from you, he'll be in touch.

Brian: Of course I didn't trust her.

But I knew I couldn't find my way out of this mess without the same pill that got me into it.

Now that they're letting me out into the field during the day, the FBI wants me to use my commute to study stuff they think I should know.

So Mike and Ike, my bodyguards, started coming by every morning to give me my pills...


Ah...

which always makes for a very interesting subway ride.

(over headphones): Game theory holds that self-interest is reliably the driving factor in human behavior...

(cello melody playing)

That's Bach. That's Allemande.

It's a great piece of music.

Can I try?

Sure.

I think your "C" string is a little sharp.

(tuning note)

Brian.

Shauna.

Wow, what has it been?

It's... almost three years.

(laughs)

Shauna.

The one that got away.




(whooping)

How have you been?

I've been good. I've been really good.

Brian: So, we talked and talked.

And if you ever do bump into the one that got away, I highly recommend doing it while you're on NZT.


(speaking Cantonese)

Oh!

Brian: By the time she got off at her stop, I had her new number and a promise that we'd catch up soon.

Good morning.

Oh, I am having an amazing day today.

What's going on?

I'm not sure.

Naz just called an all-hands-on-deck.

Naz: Morning.

Most of you remember Special Agent Ray Dixon.

He was in charge of Forensic Accounting for the Bureau until he retired last year.

His, uh, seminar on the paper trail was the toughest course at Quantico.

I think he gave out one "A" in 15 years.

Early this morning, he was walking through Bronx Park when he was sh*t in the head by a high-powered r*fle.

The NYPD think the sh*t came from the top of an apartment building on the south side of the park.

I've told the NYPD that CJC will augment their investigation.

Dixon was one of our own.

He served the Bureau for 30 years, and he left it better than he found it.

Anything useful from the scene?

Very little. He was holding this Post-it in his hand when he got sh*t.

After he retired, Dixon took a job with an executive search firm.

The CEO of IDK Technologies is stepping down.

Dixon was researching half a dozen possible candidates to replace him.

Last night, a virus was sent to Dixon's office computer that wiped out everything.

So, that combined with the way he was k*lled...

They think Dixon found something compromising about one of the potential candidates.

That person paid to have him taken out.

Boyle and Harris are running point on this, but I want you all to help them in any way they need.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I haven't seen him in years, but he was a good guy.

Can I ask a question?

So, Dixon's computer was wiped out, but didn't he keep paper files?

There you go... Ray Dixon's files.

The man was a dedicated shredder.

Boyle and I are going to check the financials of candidates for the CEO job, while Cyber tries to trace the virus on Dixon's computer.

If you can make anything of this, it'd be really helpful.

Brian: If I line up groups of letters that are likely to be paired, I can make headway.

And after that, it's just grunt work.

Thankfully, I have access to a couple of grunts.

I'm not gonna lie, this is kind of awesome.

A little messy.


(phone chimes)

I almost lost my phone.

Shauna: Okay.I have to know.

What happened?


(phone chimes) What happened to you?

It's all good. You just seem so different.

Smiley-face emoji.


Brian: Just feel good lately.

Can't be down all the time, right?

Thumbs up emoji, thumbs up emoji.


Shauna: But seriously, what happened to you?

Angry kitten face.


Brian: Wouldn't you like to know?

Smug devil face emoji.

If you're so curious, let's meet for dinner and talk about it.

Hmm. No answer.

Too much, too soon?


Boyle and I are headed out to talk to Dixon's supervisor.

Seems like you're busy here.

Have you come up with any suspects?

Mm-hmm.

Jeffrey Vachs?

Ray Dixon had files on everyone who was up for the CEO job at IDK Technologies.

But the biggest file was about Vachs.

Now, there's an e-mail exchange...

Blue one.

Got it!

Between someone with the address "utjv@gmail.com, and a woman with the handle "BlackOnyx."

"UTJV"... that's Jeffrey Vachs.

I'm not sure who BlackOnyx is yet.

Vachs was having an affair?

And ten months ago, he opened a new...

(loudly): checking account?

Yellow.

Thank you.

Now, he made cash withdrawals for $9,999 out of this account eight separate times.

$9,999?

Mmm-hmm.

He wanted to make sure the IRS wasn't paying attention to what he was doing.

You think Dixon uncovered that Vachs was being blackmailed?

And when Vachs learned that he was about to be exposed, he hired someone to take care of Dixon.

Let's hear what Vachs has to say.

All right, good work.

Ike! I thought we bonded.

(phone chimes)

Shauna: Dinner sounds great!

Our old place at 9:00?


Yes!

Sorry. Uh, ran into my ex this morning. We vibed.

No big deal, but we've got a date at 9:00.

She thought you were pretty impressive this morning, didn't she?

While you were on NZT?

Each pill lasts... 12 hours?

So if you're meeting up at 9:00...

Ike: How's she gonna like you when you're just Brian Finch?

I'm sorry. You think I'm being blackmailed?

It's an idea we got from a retired FBI Agent... Ray Dixon.

These are his files.

You're making regular payments to someone with the email address "BlackOnyx," and we think those withdrawals may be linked to Ray Dixon's m*rder.

If they're not, if you have a legitimate explanation for them, we would love to hear it so we can move on.

So then, you're not just accusing me of having an affair with one of my summer interns.

Brian: Vachs just made a slip.

Nothing in those e-mails says the woman was his intern.

All I had to do was dig around in the company where he works.


(trilling)

I'm not saying anything else without a lawyer in the room.

Am I free to go?

(sighs)

So, he doesn't need to say anything.

He told us more than he meant to.

Yes, we heard it, too.

The intern... we're on it.

Yeah. I think her name's Sarah Braden.

She was tagged in a photo from the summer of 2013.

Boyle: How do you know this is the woman Vachs had the affair with?

Take a look at the locket on her necklace.

And just like that, boom, I was back in the field.

Boyle: Sarah Braden?

Miss Braden, we're with the FBI.

Is something wrong?

Rebecca: Do you know a Jeffrey Vachs?

I'm sorry.

I don't know a Jeffrey Vachs.

Wh-Why?

Rebecca: We have definitive knowledge that Jeffrey Vachs has been depositing large sums of money into your bank account every month.

(buzzing)

This little kid's Jeffrey Vachs' son.

Yeah, what's up, little man?

You got your father's eyes.

It's the same mutation.

It's called sectoral heterochromia.

I mean, we can take a paternity test if you want.

I'm not blackmailing Jeffrey.

He sends me money because he wants to.

He wants his son to be taken care of.

Even if he can't claim him publically.

That man Dixon, he figured out the same thing you just did, but he told me he was gonna drop it.

He said he didn't want to mess with a little kid.

Jeffrey's made mistakes.

But he's not a m*rder*r.

Please don't tell his family about this.

We'll call you if we have any more questions.

Vachs was just taking care of his kid.

He didn't have motive to k*ll Ray Dixon.

Mike. Mike, Mike, Mike.

Mike the man.

How you doing, dude? They treating you okay here?

You do know Mike's not my real name, right?

Yeah, I do, but that's our thing.

Mike, Ike... these are the jokes, right?

So, listen, man.

I'm really burning the midnight oil tonight.

I mean, this is a big case; a lot of work to do.

The dispensary gives me one pill a day.

I know that, but there's got to be exceptions.

Even if you do have a date.

Ah! Well played, Mike.

You know what?

I would expect nothing less from a man of your talents.

Do people around here know how sharp you are?

'Cause I could help you with that, man.

They told me you'd try to get into my head.

That's a cynical way of putting it.

This could be the beginning of a very mutually beneficial relationship...

You think this is a good detail?

Babysitting you?

You think that's why I went to Quantico?

Mm.

I took this job because they promised that if I do it for a year, I'll get a permanent placement in the CJC as an investigator.

They gave me two rules... one pill a day and don't let you get hurt.

No way I'm breaking rule one.

What about rule number two?

One pill a day.

(mouthing)

Brian: I'm not saying I'm an FBI agent, per se.

I mean, it's complicated. (clears his throat)

But basically, uh, they noticed that I have aptitudes... command of certain facts, if you will, and decided to make me a consultant.

Okay. Uh... command of certain facts?

Yeah. Okay. Like, uh... for example, um... synthetic marijuana.

Seemingly innocuous but, actually, it's very addictive.

That is a very interesting fact.

Actually, uh, I researched it for a segment at my work.

You did? Wow. You must love that.

You're so good at making the news... not boring?

Thank you. That is the goal.

Yeah. I don't know though.

Still no promotion, huh?

No. Um, there is a segment producer that's supposed to leave in May, and they say that the job is mine, which is great, uh, except my landlord is selling my building.

And it was rent-controlled.

Your place is so amazing.

He can just sell it?

Yeah. I mean, he can tear it down...

He's getting rid of the whole building?

And I can't take the job if I can't stay in the city.

Sorry. I don't mean to complain.

No.

No, no, no, that's fine. Um, did you know this though? Um, there's, um, one out-out of every 200 men in the world that have a genetic marker that trace back to Genghis Khan?

That's the end of that fact.

(chuckles)

Are you okay?

Um, just... no, no, no. I mean, this morning, you-you had this... energy about you.

And tonight you kind of seem... off.

Honestly...

I'm nervous about this whole thing.

I am, okay?

And I just...

You know what I want to say, what I should say... is thank you.

For what?

For being a good person.

You stuck with me for a long time, and I know it was hard.

I was really down.

I hung in there for so long because it was great at the beginning. And then something changed for you, and you shut down.

And I kept waiting for you to come back.

And I stayed until it looked like you never would.

But then, this morning, there you were.

Brian: So, NZT might have given me another chance with Shauna, but what does it matter if she's leaving New York?

I'm supposed to take you out to Long Island City.

Good morning to you, too, Mike.

As I'm sure you're curious, my date went okay last night.

Rebecca: The team and I went through all the candidates for the IDK Technology job.

There were no red flags. Everyone was clean.

Also, the virus on Dixon's computer was a dead end.


So I decided to follow Dixon's own paper trail.

It's what he would have told me to do.

That one "A" he gave out, that was you, wasn't it?

He wrote my name on a white board and he left it there.

So everyone that took that seminar knows me as a forensic accounting geek.

I found consistent withdrawals from an ATM in this neighborhood, but he lives ten miles away.

So I showed his picture around, and two employees from the sandwich shop around the corner pointed me to this storage unit.

The manager told me that someone matching his description rents a locker unit here and pays cash.

Brian: This was Dixon's unit? It looks like a precinct.

Rebecca: Everything in here pertains to a guy named Marco Ramos.

He is the top lieutenant in one of the most dangerous cartels in Oaxaca.

Ray Dixon didn't get k*lled because of something he did in his new job.

He got k*lled because he couldn't let go of his old one.

Brian: Hard to believe, last month I was a temp, and now I'm chasing drug dealers.

The file on this guy is amazing.

It's like some kind of bad movie.


Narrator: Marco Ramos was the wildest nephew of the head of the Manos Sangriento cartel.

Legend holds that, rather than discipline his nephew, Ramos' uncle sent him to America, where Ramos made money hand over fist.

So much money, he didn't know what to do with it.

A consortium of the FBI and the New York Police Department built a racketeering case against Ramos.

But just as they were gearing up to arrest him, he fled.

That was six months ago. No one knows where Ramos is, but his reign of terror continues.


No, please!

Throw him to the piranhas.

No! No! (shouting)

(screaming)

Marco Ramos never fed anyone to piranhas.

Well, maybe not.

But he seems like a piranha guy to me.

The point is, Dixon was on a detail that was looking for Ramos.

Dixon kept hunting, and it looks like it got Dixon k*lled.

Yeah. In his files, Dixon was able to connect Ramos' cartel to the execution of two prosecutors in New Jersey.

They were both k*lled with high-powered r*fle sh*ts, same as Dixon.

Naz: And what do we have on the assassin?

They call him La Cebra in Mexico.

There's tons of rumors about the guy, but there's no face, no description.

Boyle: The only confirmation of his existence is a partial print taken from a windowpane at the sn*per's nest of one of the assassinations.

Dixon was close. They wouldn't have k*lled him if he wasn't.

The NYPD still has a task force that's looking for Ramos, so I say we link up with them.

We can reach out to them, but I'd be surprised if we got anywhere.

Let's pull all our files on Ramos and then reach out to the old Ramos detail. But I want to make sure you all understand this: these are bad people, and they've k*lled federal agents before.

Do you think they k*ll consultants?

We'll pull the detail together.

Uh, I'm gonna see what I can learn about La Cebra.

I mean, Ramos could be anywhere, but we know La Cebra was in New York two days ago.

I've got an idea, but I kind of need some floor space.


La Cebra k*lled a couple of people here and a bunch of people in Mexico.

I spent the day looking into every single m*rder.


You spent the day building a model?

Uh, models. Plural.

You know what, it was time well spent, too.

I had a breakthrough.

See that red "X" on the ground?

That is where the police chief was assassinated.

And the only place that the sh*t lines up is... the cathedral.

See this trajectory right here with this little guy?

In this spot, there's not enough room in the cathedral for a sn*per to lie down in a prone position, so the only way he could take the sh*t is if he rested his r*fle on the ledge. (g*nsh*t)

Now, the Mexican P.F. found a partial boot print there, which means La Cebra did not use a stool, which also means the only way he could have gotten a clean sh*t from over the ledge is if he was at least six-foot, five-inches tall.

Whew.

That's your breakthrough?

Yeah.

The sn*per was tall?

Yeah. Well, you-you can just run that through, you know, the database.

The Tall sn*per Database.

That's not a thing, is it?

No, it's not a thing.

No, of course.

I say we go see the NYPD task force in the morning.

They knew Dixon.

Maybe I can convince them to see their files.

All right, but... hey, just hold on a second.

'Cause, you know, I mean, it's the end of the day, right?

Beer o'clock?

Plus, um, you know, wanted to kind of pick your brain about something?

Just girl-type stuff.

We're at the "relationship advice" stage?

Well, we kind of have to be.

The only people that know the details of my life work at the FBI.

You are, by far, the most normal person at the FBI, so, you're really the only person in the world I can talk to about this stuff.

I'm guessing this is about your ex?

I'm pretty sure we can get it going again.

I'm also pretty sure it's only because of NZT.

So...

I'm wondering, does she like me, or does she like me on the drug?

They're the same guy.

Absolutely not. Not true.

NZT Brian can do, oh, way more stuff than regular Brian.

What?

No. There aren't two Brians.

There's you.

Sure, you can do more when you're on the pill, but, either way... it's your character.

The first time you took the pill, what did you do?

You helped your dad.

Do you think most people, if they could got their hands on a pill that would let them do just about anything, the first thing they would do would be for someone else?

If she's interested in you because of what you can do instead of who you are, then she isn't worth your time.

And if she isn't... then you're worried about nothing.

Wow.

You're good at this.

I'll take a rain check on the beer.

Hey!

Ugh! God.

Don't you ever sleep in your own bed?

Geez, Mike.

Wizard of Oz was on last night.

(sighs)

All right! See?

This is a dope office.

Look at this. Look at the grit.

Shotgun shells lying around.

What's with the ski masks?

Sometimes they wear them when they're on raids.

It can be dangerous for cartels to see their faces.

(door opens) MAN: You Harris?

Mm.

Randy Moore.

Good to meet you.

This is our consultant, Brian Finch.

(Whistles)

Look, my guys and I were sorry to hear about Dixon.

But you got to understand: the last time we cooperated with the FBI, one of our CI's got k*lled.

No one knows exactly what happened to your informant.

And we're not asking you to cooperate with the FBI.

It's just us. We just want to take a look at your files.

What are you two gonna find there that we can't?

Fresh eyes.

And Brian is a special resource.

How's that exactly?

Um...

Well, I have, among other things, perfect recall.

I can analyze data and patterns, and I can use that analysis to solve complex problems or make connections. Officer Rodriguez, right?

Yeah, that's right.

When you sit, you favor your right side.

Every time you put weight on your left butt cheek, you wince, just a little bit.

Now, you don't have a pulled muscle, so, are you sore from an injection?

Not to get too personal, but that's usually where a doctor tells you to give yourself a testosterone sh*t. (taps table)

Sergeant Moore, you have three different kinds of bite marks on your arms and hands from three different kinds of dogs.

Little dogs. You are breeding a litter of puppies.

And if I had to guess from you're overall vibe, I'd say pit bulls?

Dobermans.

Where'd you find him?

Brian: So, they let us into their files.

It was a lot to sort through, and it wasn't that helpful.

Until you are a fan of the winter games.


(fanfare plays on TV)

Whoa! Look. This is a picture from Jersey right after one of those prosecutors got sh*t.

Okay. So?

So, this guy right there... he's from Finland.

Qualified for the winter games in 1998 for biathlon.

Excuse me?

This guy was Ramos' sh**t?

Everyone assumes that La Cebra is Mexican because of his nickname, but really, it can be anyone who can take a great sh*t, like a biathlete.

They ski, and they sh**t.

"Johan Makinin."

Yeah, he's six foot, six, just like La Cebra.

He spent time in Mexico, emigrated here.

You on board with this?

We have La Cebra's fingerprint.

Makinin lists an address in Yorktown.

What's to lose?

(bubbling)



(beeping)

(line ringing)

Man: Hello?

Johan Makinin?

Yes?

FBI. We'd like to ask you some questions.

Go! Go!

(grunting)

(grunting)

(grunts)

(cocks g*n) Mr. Makinin!

You ran like a rabbit, and now, you're gonna die like a snake.

Why would I say that?

That doesn't even make sense.

I don't know. It's cool?

Look, I'm not allowed to go on the takedowns.

Let me imagine them the way I want, okay?

Anyway, you got him, right?

He ran.

And based on the stuff we found in his apartment, he is definitely La Cebra.

But, Brian?

Makinin lost his sh**ting hand two years ago.

He may have k*lled people for Marco Ramos, but there's no way he sh*t Ray Dixon two days ago.

Boyle: The prints on your left hand match the ones we found in Jersey.

You had $4 million cash stashed in your apartment, and we can match you to the boot print the P.F. found in Mexico City.

We know you're La Cebra.

The only question left is: who's gonna put you in jail... the United States or Mexico?

Rebecca: If we were to extradite you, how long do you think you'd last in a prison filled with soldiers from other cartels?

I help you find Ramos, you try me here.

Is that your offer?

As you say, I am the gunman Marco Ramos nicknamed La Cebra.

But, as you can see, I clearly have not done any work for the man since this happened.

I used to custom-fit my b*ll*ts.

I was getting ready for a job, working with some gunpowder...

REBECCA Why is Ramos trying to make it look like you're still active?

The name inspires fear, and Ramos finds that useful.

But the truth is, I have no idea.

I haven't spoken to him since he fled.

Where did he go?

I don't know.

He called me the night he left to say that he feared he would soon be arrested.

He wanted to make a deal with your government before that happened.

Describe the inner workings of his organization in exchange for some kind of leniency.

Ramos was going to betray the cartel?

Become a witness?

He promised he would give me warning, time to leave the country, but... clearly, he changed his mind.

So you have no information to provide?

Enjoy Mexico.

Wait.

There are other things I know.

Brian: Well, I wasn't wrong.

You were wrong about La Cebra k*lling Dixon.

But it gave us good information.

Makinin gave us the phone number that Ramos used to call him from, and the shell company that he used to pay him from.

Yeah, it's called Tiovola.

Yeah, I'm gonna see where I can get with their financials, and Rebecca's gonna take a look at the number.

Let me know what you need from our end.

You've already been a huge help. Thank you.

(Laughs)

Sorry. I'm researching something else.

It's relationship stuff.

In fact, I won't bore you with the details.

Hey, you guys are just running down records, right?

You don't need me for a while.

Great.

Sergeant Moore?

Keep it real. Or don't.

Keep it however you want to keep it.

We've been after La Cebra for years.

Ramos didn't tell anyone his button man's real name.

That kid found him in a morning.

Yeah. Like I told you, Brian is a, um, unique resource.

There we go.

Okay. Why are we looking at the lobby in my building?

Um, well, I was thinking about your apartment problem.

And so, I decided to poke around a bit, see if I could help out.

Like a lot of old buildings downtown, yours wasn't always used for housing.

It used to be... a factory.

Yeah, for textiles and stuff.

Yeah.

But did you know that a man by the name of Abraham Waltham owned the factory? And he used to be active in the Communist party?

No.

Well, he did, and he was.

Who else was active in the Communist Party back in those days? Artists.

Lots and lots of artists, including one named Albert Harvey.

He wasn't super-famous, um, but he was still very important in his day.

He did a mural for the WPA Federal Art Project right before he was disgraced because of his politics.

Now, Albert Harvey also did a favor for Waltham, the guy that used to own your building.

He painted a mural on one of the walls, but Waltham chickened out.

He painted over the mural when Harvey got hauled in front of the HUAC... the House Un-American Activities Committee.

And then... everybody just kind of forgot about it.

Until I looked through Harvey's sketchbook this afternoon.

Um... what do you mean?

I mean I called the art restoration lab at Columbia, we got one of your neighbors to let us into your apartment building, and we took an X-ray of the wall.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God, it's gonna be beautiful when they uncover it.

Because that will make your building a historical landmark, and they cannot tear it down.

Oh, my God!

This is amazing.

You're amazing. (chuckles)

It was one of those moments when it felt like it was all right there.

What's wrong?

I want this.

Shauna, I do.

But I really don't want to mess it up again.

There are things about my life that I can't tell you about.

What can you tell me about?

(chuckles softly)

Brian: thieving your clothes and imitating your...

Shauna: which she also used, and I had to pull hair off of it once, which was just kind of the limit.

Brian: Oh, my God.

Why do you still live with this person?

This person who wants to be you so bad.

She makes such good brownies.

Is that why? Wait, what kind of brownies?

Shauna: real stuff.

She asked about you a lot.

My mom loved you, Brian.

It was right then that I realized that the pill wore off hours ago.

She was talking to Brian.

Just Brian.


(birds chirping)

(gasps)

Mike: Sorry to interrupt.

Oh.

Harris needs you in the Bronx.

All right. Yeah.

Brian?

This is, uh... this is Mike.

He's from my work, and he's got a key.

(snapping fingers) All right, all right. I got to change my shirt.

Look, I'm sorry. I got to go. But I'll see you tonight.

(exhales)

Rebecca: The cell phone Ramos used to contact Makinin sent its last backup to the cloud on the same day that Ramos disappeared.

The last location its GPS recorded was that street corner.

Wasn't Ray Dixon k*lled near here?

Weird, right?

Yeah.

Ramos disappears right around here, and, six months later, Ray Dixon is found m*rder*d two blocks away?

I don't know. There's something we're missing.

There's some connection.

(Sighs)

Brian: Something like that?

My God.

So you think this is Ramos' hideout?

Tiovola is the company that used to pay Johan Makinin to k*ll people for Ramos.

Mm-hmm.

I went through everything they hold.

Three years ago, they bought a condo on Ludlow Street.

Guess who lives there.

Randy Moore.

That's right.

The NYPD task force was working with Ramos.

They're dirty.

Naz: So where the hell is Ramos now?

Rebecca: Oh, my God.

Well, looks like we found Marco Ramos.

(indistinct police transmission)

Rebecca: None of the task force showed up this morning.

We think they're all on the run.


How long have they been on the take?

As far as we can tell, it started right after they formed the task force.

When Marco Ramos started to think about making a deal with us, they knew their lives were on the line.

They k*lled him, and they let the fact that people thought he was still out there keep the money flowing.

Eventually, they would have let the body turn up and taken credit for finding him.

One of the guys in Moore's task force was a sn*per with the Rangers.

Uh, we figure he mimicked La Cebra.

And when Dixon got too close, they k*lled him.

Moore's team couldn't find the real La Cebra though.

So when Brian did, they knew we'd get to the truth soon and they ran.

Best guess: they headed for non-extradition countries.

Once we track them, we can make them stand trial in our jurisdiction.

So let's find them.

(phone chimes)

Brian: Quick question.

Is there a hotline we can call if we need a fighter jet?


(scoffs)

Rebecca: Why exactly do we need fighter jets?

Moore and his guys need to get out of the country, right?

Fast and someplace we can't touch them.

Puno Airlines, Flight 232 from JFK to Caracas.

It's the only direct flight to Venezuela today, and, as you can see, it's already en route.

Now, Venezuela's not technically a non-extradition country, but the treaty never gets enforced.

It might as well be.

These guys are affiliated with a cartel.

There's no way they're gonna run by jumping on a commercial flight.

They're not on the flight.

They're under it.

Now, this is a charter plane, provided by the cartel.

And I'm betting they've got hot flight attendants, fully reclining seats, warm nuts... the whole deal. And if they wanted to take this out of the country, they could take off without a flight plan and turn off their transponder.

Problem is, they're still traceable by radar.

Unless...

They're flying so close to the bigger plane that they look like one signal on the radar.

I got the idea from Miami Vice.



All right, come here. Look at Flight 232.

Now, nothing out of the ordinary, right?

Until you overlay a real-time thermal loop from the National Weather Service's satellite.

See that?

Okay, Flight 232 is traveling at the same speed as every other jet in the sky, but there's two times the amount of exhaust.

There are two planes up there.

We're on the clock.

I mean, that plane leaves U.S. airspace in about 30 minutes.

So... how 'bout those fighter jets, huh?

Reporter: A dramatic scene today, as Air Force jets intercepted a plane that was taking four rogue NYPD officers...

Uh, my day was awesome, man. Thanks for asking.

My night looks promising, too.

I was glad to see you and Shauna the other night.

Yeah. You know, I'm hoping you'll see a lot more of us.

Cheers.

(door opens)

Can I help you with something?

You absolutely can.

Quite a few things, in fact.

My name's Sands.

Just "Sands," huh? No first name or...

You can call me Mr. Sands, if you like.

It's fitting.

I'm your new boss.

(chuckles)

I work for the FBI.

You were placed in the FBI.

You work for the same man I do.

Mr. Morra's a great man, and he envisions great things for the world.

But to get there, he needs men like me.

I'm gonna give you jobs to do, Brian.

What kind of jobs?

When I give you an assignment, you will do it exactly the way I tell you to.

Otherwise I'll take steps to ensure that you do it correctly the next time.

Is this about my dad?

That woman said she was just a nurse.

She is a nurse, mate. She injects things.

She injects whatever I tell her to inject.

Besides, who's to say it's your father I'd go after?

There is no one you call family or friends who I can't touch.

It's a tough thing to get used to, the idea that your life isn't yours anymore.

But you belong to Mr. Morra now, which means you belong to me.

Enjoy your date with Shauna.

Brian.

What's wrong?

Brian?

Brian?

Rebecca: Brian?

You haven't been picking up your phone.

One of Moore's guys, Rodriguez, he agreed to be a witness.

They're going away...

What's wrong?

Uh... I had to, uh, break off things with Shauna.

She didn't take it very well.

I think I hurt her pretty bad. (sniffles)

What happened?

What, are we at the "relationship advice" stage?

Well, we kind of have to be.

I'm the only one you can talk to.

I just, um...

I don't really have control over my life right now.

(sighs)

Things are... pretty complicated.

I get it.

Okay.

Beer o'clock?

(chuckles)