01x09 - So it Goes

[bunniefuu]

Nadine: The framework for the next phase of the talks is in place.

The Iranians have signed off on Vienna.

Though not on the venue.

We just need to finalize the schedule.

And the venue.

Schedule determines available venues.

We'll get into it, sir.

If it were up to me, I would lock the Iranians in the back room of a clam bar until we had a deal.

It might have to be a Wiener Schnitzel bar in Vienna, sir.

All right. Thanks, everybody.

Uh, Matt...

Yeah?

How's that speech coming along?

I'll have a draft for you by the time you land.

Good.

Sir... the policy stances you asked for are very much at odds with the administration.

(wry laugh) Again?

(quiet laugh)

I can soften them.

Nah.

I want a clear, bold vision.

Yes, sir.

Oh, and Matt... you know I count on your discretion.

Of course.

Yes.

What did he want?

Nothing.

You're lying.

No, I'm not.

And you're bad at it.

Look, if I were lying, which I am not, you would never know.

So the secretary just wanted to sh**t the breeze?

We have a rapport.

Oh, please.

You know, you're just... you're just jealous that the big guy is taking an interest in me.

Wait, that man would eat his young for a leg up.

You're mistaking cozy for something else.

You wanted to see me, Mr. Secretary?

Yes. Come in.

I am sorry, but I have to cancel our weekend.

Is it your wife?

No, it's personal business.

Can I ask what?

You can ask me anything.

It's an estate matter relating to my family's old cattle ranch outside Caracas.

I... I need to handle it personally.

Okay, then.

When I get back...

I'll make it up to you.

You better.

(chuckles)

You're good to go, Mr. Secretary.

Thanks, Fred.

Mike and Tony'll have your back while you're down there.

If they can keep up.

Hope you boys like riding horses.

(both chuckle)

Happy trails, sir.

Thanks.

(sudden bang, rattling)

Oh, great.

(banging, rumbling)

Pretty rough, huh?

Are you all right? Are you all right?

We have hit severe C.A.T.

I think the stub trim's broken completely.

What the hell is going on?

I've lost pitch control.

Can you get it back?

The stabilizer's failed completely.

I cannot keep us in the air.

So it goes.

All right, trying to push and roll, (over speaker): losing altitude fast.

No, no, no, no, no...

(static, cuts off)

Play back that last part.

Yeah.

Pilot: ...keep us in the air.

Vincent: So it goes.

"So it goes," huh?

He's pretty calm for a guy who thinks he's about to die.

The NTSB didn't find the comment remarkable.

Well, they didn't have reason to.

I once had a wing drop that sent me into an uncontrolled roll at 1,000 feet... I didn't know if I had room to bail.

Whoa, you never told me this.

Well, I... the point is, uh, everything slowed. All I felt was calm.

Okay, Iceman, but you were a pilot and Marsh doesn't exactly sound calm to me... more like he isn't surprised.

You know, like he crossed someone and is expecting payback.

You've seen too many spy movies, Isabelle.

And lived a few.

What about you, babe?

Does this... does he sound like a guy who suspected foul play?

Well, George thought it was. I...

Two months after Marsh's plane went down, George stood right over there and said that crash wasn't an accident... and that somebody in the CIA was behind it.

No matter how wigged out George was, he was a damn good analyst.

Three days later, he dies in a car crash that anybody with basic tradecraft skills could have made look like an accident.

It reeks of foul play.

And yet here's this 2,000-page NTSB report that concludes Vincent Marsh's plane crash was an accident.

Well, we owe it to George to see if we can prove it wrong. Gimme.

Okay...

The NTSB's conclusion seems irrefutable.

The R-47 jackscrew in the tail assembly failed, taking out the horizontal stabilizers, resulting in an unrecoverable dive.

A broken screw? Seriously?

Well, the R-47 is more like a-a rod.

It's about an inch in diameter.

Says it was rated for ten years.

Was at eight and a half at the time of the crash.

It's not crazy that it would fail a little early.

Well, the C-600 jet has a pretty great safety record.

Only one crash in the past 15 years, in Dubai.

Wait a minute... I remember that.

I was on the Middle East desk at the time.

Uh, some... Iranian scientist d*ed?

Yeah, their top nuclear physicist.

Right. There was speculation that Mossad was behind that.

It was also stabilizer failure.

The R-47 jackscrew.

Is that a coincidence?

Well, there's a whole section on it here.

Let's see, the investigators looked hard at the Dubai crash, comparing it to Marsh's.

Right, at the time, the screw was rated for 15 years.

Was changed to ten after.

But they emphasize the only connection between Dubai and Marsh is the failure to recognize the weakness of the alloy used in the screws in the first place.

So... if someone sabotaged Marsh's plane, they knew that the investigators would look at the Dubai crash and assume it was a similar issue with that screw.

Which is exactly what happened.

Okay... so how do you sabotage an R-47 jackscrew?

The jackscrew's concealed behind the main plate and the tail section, so...

You're familiar with this type of plane?

There are some design similarities to the F/A-18's I used to fly.

And I knew every inch of that plane.

I'll study up on this.

For now, who could have access to that main plate?

Okay, you'd have to remove the plate to get to the jackscrew and then reattach it... pretty big job.

Given security, because it was Marsh's plane...

Right.

...it could only have been a legit maintenance worker.

And of all the maintenance workers, it would have to be someone not just rated for airframe, but with an expertise in tail section hydraulics as well.

One of these five guys.

So if the plane was sabotaged, one of them did it.

Elizabeth: Doesn't feel real until the POI's go up on the whiteboard.

I'll run deep background on them... quietly.

Is this what you do all day at Langley, Isabelle?

Pretty much.

But it was more fun when Elizabeth was still around.

Yeah, hopped up on caffeine, solving mysteries the rest of the world didn't know about.

If you screw up, people die.

That sounds really fun.

Just like old times, yeah?

Except now I'm Secretary of State and my boss is the president.

He's not just Director Dalton in the funny bow tie anymore.

I think he...

Conrad, hey.

Sorry to interrupt.

Uh, do you have a minute, Bess?

Sure.

Oh, uh... let me just go get some more coffee.

Oh, please.

What's up?

I, uh, wanted to check with you about that Dubai crash.

Well, UAE prelim report said it was an accident.

What do you think?

Five Iranian nationals dead.

UAE is neutral toward Iran.

No reason to doubt the report.

And Abolfazi?

Just a coincidence he was on board?

Definitely bad for Iran's nuclear ambitions.

You think Mossad had something to do with it?

I don't know.

It's good for us, too.

Yeah.

Guess we got lucky.

Let me know if you hear anything, huh?

Yeah.

Maybe we shouldn't be doing this.

Of course we should.

What are we talking about?

If Marsh was m*rder*d, whoever's behind it had no problem k*lling the secretary of state.

We have to consider the kids.

Maybe it's too dangerous to go poking around.

You know what'd be dangerous?

Not knowing.

Are you about to quote Sun Tzu?

No, I'm more of a Patton guy.

But you do need to know your enemy.

It wouldn't be safe for our family for us not to look into this.

Maybe that screw just failed.

Maybe it was just an accident.

No, I'm not asking him out, that's insane.

Isn't it?

I mean, I can't ask him out.

How do you ask a guy like that out?

Two sh*ts at a big brother that I will never get back.

I have to break in my cleats, doofus.

Here? Like, now?

Do you actually think that I should ask him out?

I have a big game tomorrow.

Wait, your games are on Sunday.

It's playoffs.

Quarterfinals are after school.

What? No. I have a seminar tomorrow.

Ah, I'm gonna miss it. I'm so sorry, Noodle.

That's fine.

It's only quarterfinals.

I'll go.

I thought your security guy said you can't.

Well, it's the playoffs.

Yay. But no being diplomatic about who you root for.

No worries there. I will shamelessly cheer for you... and jeer and hiss at the other team.

Oh, hey, no, you're right.

Yes, I am gonna ask him out.

Well, I don't know, I need to, like...

(both sighing)

Bye, guys.

Daisy: Madam Secretary.

Elizabeth: Good morning.

We'd like to review the protocol for tomorrow's Nauru coffee.

Nay-who?

Uh, Nauru.

It's one of our fellow nations on Earth, ma'am.

Since when?

Mm, 3,000 years ago.

Uh, tiny, South Pacific island, population 10,000, but Godfrey Yispinza, their president, is coming, so we'll need full-on head of state moves.

Actually, Yispinza's their foreign minister.

Might want to get our facts straight so we make those right moves.

They are, ma'am.

He's definitely the president.

Foreign minister.

Seems my cr*ck team has this under control.

I trust you to handle the planning.

Thank you, Madam Secretary.

Daisy: Yes, Madam Secretary.

Morning, Blake.

Morning, Madam Secretary.

Get me Fred Cole in my office.

Uh, yes, but first, there's someone else in your office.

Scary guy.

(sighs heavily)

Russell... you gotta stop intimidating my assistant.

I can say the same about you and the NTSB chair.

What do you mean?

I got a call from Chairman Nelson.

Said you inquired about the Marsh report.

That's right.

(chuckles): Did you really ask if they polygraphed the maintenance guys?

I just had a few questions.

You planning to question the report?

Of course not. But I'm sitting in Marsh's seat... I'm interested in what happened.

What happened is in the damn report.

You know, someone recently reminded me that I'm fourth in line for the presidency.

So you don't get to come into my office and push me around.

And I'm Chief of Staff to the actual president.

It's my job to know everything and to keep peace between all the departments.

Through bullying and intimidation?

Madam Secretary... don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

Oh, Russell, get out of my office.

Fred: Westmore Prep's soccer field is what we call a "rat trap."

Easily accessible, hard to escape.

360 degrees of open area, lines of sight all around.

Mm. Yeah.

I see that.

And now I'm asking you to make it work.

I don't know if I can do that, ma'am.

Well, then we have a problem.

Because I am going to my daughter's soccer game, right there, tomorrow at 2:30.

Due respect... but not on my watch.

Fred... you know my next move.

I don't want to have to let you go.

Ma'am...

I already lost one Secretary of State...

...I'm not losing another one.

Secretary Marsh d*ed in a plane crash.

Wasn't your fault, Fred.

My job is to keep the secretary safe.

I don't make excuses, ma'am.

Okay.

How about this?

You take whatever precautions you need to.

Even embarrassing ones.

You could lock me in a bulletproof bubble if you have to... just... you get me to that game.

Ma'am, we really should go over the seating chart for the Nauru coffee tomorrow.

Chart, huh?

I know you're not a fan...

Uh, wait... cancel Nauru.

Bring in the, uh, Israeli delegation instead.

On one day's notice?

Yeah.

(groans) Ma'am, the Nauru coffee has been on the books for months.

Prime Minister Yispinza is already here in DC.

Somebody has got to nail down that guy's title.

Why Israel?

Why now?

Because the secretary said so.

But won't the Nauruans be offended?

Of course they will.

Which is why God created gift baskets.

How are we supposed to prep for Israel in less than a day?

By not wasting any more time.

I'll get into it with the Office of the Chief of Protocol.

(tablet chimes)

What is it?

Uh, my landlord.

The pipes in my building burst. I gotta go.

Wait. You're lying.

No, I'm not.

Dude!

I'll talk to you later.

Wait... what about prepping for Israel?

What do you have for me on the secretary, Matt?

I don't have anything.

Of course you do.

Tell me... what kind of mood she's in.

I'm...

I don't feel comfortable with this.

Well, you were comfortable coming to me when you worked for Marsh.

That was different.

She's not conspiring against the president.

What is she doing?

I never agreed to spy on Secretary McCord.

I won't do it.

Well, then think of it as keeping tabs.

Come on, Matt, this is how it works.

You give me something, and I give you something...

Don't you want an office in the West Wing?

Isabelle: I ran deep background on our five mechanics, called in favors, came close to breaking laws.

It's not one of them.

Sorry.

No red flags, no unexplained influxes of money or secret bank accounts, no suspicious behavior.

Well, then that's it, we're done.

If the plane was sabotaged, it had to be one of them.

Maybe not.

Okay, you're the one who said it had to be one of them.

I've been looking over the design of the C-600.

What about it?

Marsh's pilot cites a patch of severe C.A.T... Clear Air Turbulence... in the moments before the dive.

But turbulence can't take a plane down... even I know that.

Yeah, right, but severe C.A.T. is rough, and if there's already metal fatigue on a part, like the R-47 jackscrew, the pressure can push it to the breaking point.

Which is the NTSB's conclusion.

So what if it wasn't C.A.T.?

What if it was something else and the pilot mistook it for turbulence?

Sabotage a different part of the plane in order to put stress on the jackscrew?

Pilot says it's turbulence, so the NTSB investigators never questioned it.

They assumed the jackscrew cracked, which caused the tail to come apart, because the plane was shaking.

But what if the tail breaking apart is what caused the shaking?

Which, in turn, put pressure on the jackscrew.

But wouldn't the investigators have noted the order of events?

When the plane crashed, everything was smashed to pieces.

So there's no way to know what order they broke up in.

Well, look, I have... no idea how any of this would be achieved... it's just a crazy theory.

No, it's interesting.

It's like a magic trick.

And then the pilot unwittingly helps sell it by reporting turbulence.

It would have to be a genius, like a diabolical saboteur out of a Bond movie.

If you were going to k*ll the Secretary of State, don't you think you'd want to hire one of those types?

(video g*nf*re blasting)

Apparently... every pair of my shoes is out of fashion.

You really needed a magazine to tell you that, Mom?

Guess I'll just embarrass you at your game.

She's already embarrassing me at this game.

Come on, Dad, stop going easy on me.

I'm not.

(Stevie screams)

Stevie! What? What?

I have a date with the cutest guy on Earth!

(giggling)

Are you guys okay?

(video game w*apon f*ring)

(sighs)

Did you get my text?

Yeah. All 106 of 'em.

Oh, you counted them, but you didn't respond?

Look, I drafted her remarks, okay?

Oh, what do you want, a Scooby snack?

Where the hell have you been?

I... I told you, I... my pipes burst.

Then let's see the pictures of the flooding you took on your phone for the insurance claim.

I don't have insurance.

It was a job interview.

That's why you've been so preoccupied.

But you already have a great job, so it must be a greater job.

The White House?

No... I mean, no, no, absolutely not.

Oh, protest too much?

No! I mean... cut-cut it out.

It's a deputy spot.

Hey, I need to review the secretary's remarks.

Did you get my messaging statement?

Knock, knock.

What is it, Blake?

The NASA administrator wants a meeting with Madam Secretary.

NASA?

Does he know we only handle Earth?

He said it was urgent.

What's it about?

Time travel.

Excuse me?

You heard me right.

Okay.

Well... if you've got a time machine, I'd sure like to borrow it.

(wry laugh)

You think that what I do doesn't matter, that the space program is irrelevant.

The fact that my agency is the only one in the entire government currently driving a freaking SUV across the surface of Mars isn't important.

Administrator...

No, no, please... call me Glenn.

Glenn... my earliest memories are of the Apollo missions.

I think NASA plays a vital role in this country.

Thank you.

Elizabeth: So how can I help you... with time travel?

The Gimbal-Solander telescope is scheduled to be deployed next month.

It's next-gen lenses are so powerful that they will be able to see back in time, to the light that emanated in the... in the milliseconds after the Big Bang.

Now, of course, we're placing it on the equator, in a corner of the Earth devoid of light pollution.

Let me guess: On a remote island in the South Pacific.

Nauru?

It was supposed to be placed on Nauru... until the State Department... insulted Nauru's Chairman of the Cabinet Yispinza by unceremoniously canceling on him.

Chairman of the Cabinet?

There's been some debate over Mr. Yispinza's title.

Doesn't matter what his title is.

He's threatening to cancel our contract.

But there is no better place on Earth for the Gimbal-Solander.

Please... make things right with Nauru.

I'll do my best.

Elizabeth: Thank you.

Thank you.

Uh, Glenn... what do you think you'll... see in that billions-year-old light?

It's impossible to say.

Maybe God.

Or secrets of the universe.

The unknowable, Ms. Tolliver.

Nadine: The briefing book for the Israeli coffee, ma'am.

Oh... you really think I'll be able to read all...

172 pages between here and... Conference Room East?

Your communications department came through on short notice. (sighs)

Well, luckily, I'm pretty well versed in Israeli geopolitics.

NASA guy likes you, you know.

He does not.

Trust me... years of spy training.

Plus, you know, I'm a woman.

You should ask him out.

I couldn't.

I noticed he wasn't wearing a ring.

Spy training's pretty impressive.

I'm not ready.

I don't want to overstep.

Too late.

(sighs)

Nadine, you deserve to be happy.

Besides... maybe he'll let you drive the Mars Rover.

See you in there.

Matt: I am the writer.

Look, I'm in charge of the messaging.

Is-is that even a word?

I'm gonna punch you.

Hey! You need to work together.

Matt: Great.

So I will write the talking points, and then you can... message them however you want.

No. I'll craft the message first.

You sound ridic...

(woman screaming)

What the hell was that?

Uh...

(woman crying)

Oh, my God, he was just here. How can this be happening?

Maybe they got it wrong. Do we have confirmation?

Nadine: What is it?

(crying, murmuring)

Uh...

(woman crying)

Uh, Secretary Marsh's plane... went down in the Atlantic.

(gasps, shudders)

Coast Guard confirms.

There's no survivors.

Gather all the undersecretaries.

Get them all in here right now.

Jay, go!

Yeah, okay, yeah, come on, all right, people come on.

Elizabeth: Our challenges in the Middle East are great, but our commitment to a shared vision of peace and prosperity in the region needs to be even greater.

Thank you all for coming.

Now eat.

Ambassador Dori.

Ah, Madam Secretary.

Your remarks were very gracious.

Thanks for saying that.

They often feel a little canned.

I know the feeling.

Sometimes I miss our old jobs.

Being under the radar.

I don't think I'll ever get used to talking about what I'm doing.

(laughs)

Well, speaking of things that you didn't talk about... the C-600 crash in Dubai in 2003... there were whisperings that Mossad was behind that.

Were there?

If I remember it correctly, the investigation concluded it was an accident.

Iran's top nuclear physicist was on board.

A happy accident.

Well, hypothetically, if it weren't an accident, might you have engineered the means by which pressure was placed on the tail section, over-stressing the R-47 jackscrew?

You have quite a knowledge of avionics, Madam Secretary.

So, am I right?

Think of it as reminiscing.

We're just talking hypotheticals here.

If you wanted to overstress the jackscrew, you would remove the tail plate and strip the threads on the vertical stabilizer nut.

Tail plate. That's removed during...

Removed during fueling.

Right.

And subject to infrequent inspections for wear.

Once the control starts to slip, the plane would begin to shake.

And the pilot would likely just report it as turbulence.

It would stress the tail section to the point that even a correctly-maintained jackscrew would fail.

Hypothetically, of course.

Was the CIA involved?

You have to ask me?

U.S. had as much skin in the game as Israel.

Please just tell me if anyone in the CIA was read into it.

I think we have reminisced enough, Madam Secretary.

A pleasure.

Isabelle: The fueling technician, John Castellano.

He has an honest face.

Hidden bank account. Caymans.

As buried as you get.

Well, trust me, you don't want to know how I found it, but I'm not at all surprised the NTSB didn't.

Disgruntled Interpol finance agent?

Oh, I'm not telling. You need plausible deniability.

Fine. Any activity?

Day before the crash, half a million dollars showed up in the account.

From where?

Untraceable.

You think it could be a coincidence?

Running dr*gs through the airport...

Or smuggling, money laundering.

No, we're not gonna know until we get him into a room and break him.

You think that's a good idea?

No.

But we're all in now.

What makes you think he'd break?

The play's the thing.

That'd be a hell of a bold move, unprecedented.

You sure you want to go there?

All in.

Bess.

It could put the entire administration at risk.

I don't know who I can trust.

Just get him in a room.

I don't care how you do it.

Hi, Matt.

Hey, Blake.

What can I do for you?

No, just... just saying hey.

Please don't. Please.

Sorry.

So, um, uh, what's up with the secretary canceling on Nauru and bringing in Israel?

Is this small talk, or do you have an agenda?

I'm just checking in with you, dude.

Please don't.

What, we're-we're human beings, you know?

We're social creatures.

Okay, now you're just making me uncomfortable.

(knocking)

Glenn.

I hope you don't mind me stopping by.

Not at all.

Had a meeting downstairs about a joint satellite launch with Japan, and just want to say thank you for... making nice with Nauru.

Well, it's our job... making nice.

You're good at it.

Telescope is back on track.

And President Yispinza is over the moon about that state lunch you're planning.

President?

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, and Prime Minister.

And foreign minister, and chairman of the cabinet.

Small country.

Not enough politicians.

Ah.

He wears all the hats.

He also runs a fish and tackle shop.

(laughs)

Well, we'll be sure we get the protocol right for all of his positions.

I would love to hear about how you plan a lunch like that.

Uh, perhaps over lunch?

Oh... um, I-I really can't leave today.

The secretary is at her daughter's soccer game, and I'm holding down the fort.

Maybe another time.

I hold down the fort a lot.

Of course.

I actually ought to go check on my fort.

Yeah.

Thanks again.

You're welcome.

(girls shouting)

(crowd shouting)

Elizabeth: Come on, Wildcats!

Come on, Wildcats!

Clear it out of there!

Come on, girls!

Come on!

Yes!

(cheering)

Man: Great save. Great save, guys.

Thataway!

(Elizabeth whoops)

(crowd cheers)

John Castellano?

Ms. Barnes.

Ah, no. Call me Laura.

Thanks for meeting me here today.

I've just had appointments all over town.

It's-it's no problem.

I appreciate the opportunity.

Oh, I like your attitude already.

And I think the Jandermann Group will, too.

Mr. Jandermann likes positive, can-do folks.

(laughs)

And from what I understand, he pays better than my current employer, so...

Yeah, if you like that kind of thing.

(laughs) Yeah.

(laughing): Yeah.

So... let's talk fueling.

Okay.

Yeah.

(indistinct, overlapping shouting)

(whistle blowing)

Yes!

(cheering)

(crowd sighing and groaning)

Whoa! What? What? No call?

Ah, that's a legal play, ma'am.

Whose side are you on?

I'm just...

(whistle blowing)

Halftime! Ten minutes!

Good half. Great half.

I want to... I want to go see her.

Okay.

I can't get over you out there!

Can you believe that dive stop I made?

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, no.

Can you believe? Fred, did you see that?

She was really great.

Did you see that save?

She was great.

Ma'am, uh, listen, can you take a secure call?

Sure.

I can hang back with the team.

No, no, no, I want, I want you to hang with me.

Come on, come on. Come on.

Baby.

(laughs)

Listen, Noodle, something's come up.

Don't you have to take that call?

Actually, no.

I need a favor.

That's all I have.

Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Castellano?

Yeah. When do I start?

(both laugh)

Hey, you know what? How about this?

Mr. Jandermann is heading back to Houston tonight, but I think I can get him to sit down with you for a few minutes in his hotel room, if you're free now.

Yeah. Yeah, that's great.

Great.

(sighs)

I owe you one, Fred.

This never happened, ma'am.

Fancy place.

Yeah, Mr. Jandermann does all right.

You have a key?

Yup.

Have a seat.

So, he's, uh... he's here?

Oh, yeah. He'll be right up.

Yeah, something feels off about this.

Sit down, Mr. Castellano.

Sit.

Do you know who I am?

What the hell is sh...

Who am I, Mr. Castellano? Say it.

You're-you're the... you're the Secretary of State.

That's right.

Did you know my predecessor, Vincent Marsh?

Did you k*ll Secretary of State Vincent Marsh?

I'm gonna ask you again.

Did you k*ll Secretary of State Vincent Marsh by sabotaging his C-600 jet?

Isabelle: As you fueled the plane, you opened the tail plate and stripped the vertical stabilizer nut, isn't that right?

I see it is.

And you received $500,000 for your trouble in a numbered Cayman account. I take it that wasn't... lottery winnings.

I don't even know what's happening here.

I don't want to be here.

You're free to go anytime you like.

Problem is, if you do, we can't guarantee you won't be grabbed up and thrown in a hole for the rest of your life.

I don't want that any more than you do.

Now, obviously, somebody put you up to sabotaging that plane.

If you tell me the truth, I can make sure that you're treated fairly.

How do I know I can trust you?

You don't.

But I am the Secretary of State and you don't have any better options.

Let me help you, John.

They said I couldn't talk to anybody.

Who?

I don't know.

Then how did they communicate with you?

Phone.

I get this call saying my kid's life's in danger I don't do exactly as they say.

And they send me an e-mail with a live video link of my daughter in her preschool playground with one of those laser red target dots on her forehead.

My four-year-old girl.

Male or female voice?

I don't know.

It was one of those, uh, electronically altered voices.

Said I, um...

I don't do exactly as they say, she's dead.

If I called the cops or talked to anybody... they'd k*ll my whole family.

When I saw the half mil in the bank, that's when I knew it was for real.

And the instructions for sabotaging the plane?

E-mail.

You know, I'm just a fueler. (wry chuckle)

I didn't know exactly what it would do.

Not that I didn't have some idea.

When I saw that the plane crashed...

I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to do?

Did you have any other communications with these people?

No. No.

I-I didn't even touch the money.

No matter what the circumstances were, you were a part of the assassination of the Secretary of State.

Now, if I have you arrested, it'll tip off whoever hired you.

That's why I'm letting you go.

And then, as long as you stay quiet, and never speak a word of any of this, I can protect you.

And I can protect your daughter.

That's the only way.

Okay.

Ms. Barnes will contact you about getting into your... computer and your e-mails.

You'll cooperate.

Yes.

Now go.

Now what?

Special delivery.

What?!

Security sent them up.

From an admirer of yours.

Lose the smirk, Blake, and get back to your desk.

(quiet titter)

(sighs)

Ma'am, do you have a minute?

No, not really.

It's important.

(sighs)

What's wrong?

Ma'am, I need to come clean.

I kind of spied on Secretary Marsh for Russell Jackson.

"Kind of"?

Marsh was going to run against Dalton in the next cycle.

He never acknowledged it directly, but he had me writing all of these speeches with policy positions that were completely out of whack with the administration.

Said he wanted to have them, just in case.

That's a hell of a dilemma, Matt.

You're telling me. I, uh...

I was popping antacids like Tic Tacs, wrestling with whether to be loyal to Marsh or Dalton.

I decided that, ultimately, we all serve at the pleasure of the president.

So you told Jackson.

How'd he take it?

How do you think?

Give me a little more poetry in this section.

You got it.

Jackson: Vincent, we need to talk.

Thanks, Matt.

Jackson (muffled): You're planning to run, aren't you?

Marsh (muffled): Excuse me?

Jackson: Against Dalton in the next cycle.

(scoffs)

Where'd you get that?

Not denying much?

I'm not dignifying the question.

You know, I tried to convince Dalton not to go with you, but the old boys in the party thought it was your turn.

What do you want?

I'm just putting you on notice.

You don't back-s*ab the president of your own party without consequences.

Is that a thr*at, Russell?

It's a guarantee.

I speak for the president on this.

As you might imagine, he's pretty upset.

And he'll have no compunction whatsoever slitting the throat of someone who has been a staunch ally and helped get him elected?

So it goes.

Elizabeth: "So it goes."

He said that?

Yeah.

It was an odd turn of phrase.

It stuck with me.

Why does it matter?

And he specifically said the president was upset?

Yeah. Of course the president was upset.

You tell anyone else?

No.

But when Marsh's plane went down, I-I couldn't help but wonder if they had something to do with it.

I-I mean, I felt like a crazy conspiracy theorist.

I was relieved when the NTSB report came out.

I bet.

So why tell me now?

Because now Jackson wants me to spy on you.

Really?

Yeah, in exchange for a job at the White House.

I tried to tell him no, but he made me promise to think about it.

Tell him you'll do it.

What?

Why?

Now that I know that he's spying on me, I can use a double agent.

No, no, no, I-I don't think that-that's a good idea.

Matt, you've been dishonest.

Think of it as your penance.

Pilot (recorded): The stabilizer's failed completely.

I cannot keep us in the air.

Marsh: So it goes.

Pilot: Trying to push and...

(sighs)

When his plane was going down, Vincent Marsh was thinking Jackson and Dalton were behind it.

That doesn't mean he was right.

Ambassador Dori didn't deny that the CIA was involved in the Dubai crash.

If they were, then Dalton knew how to sabotage a C-600 and get away with it.

Maybe he tapped me because he didn't think I'd ever suspect him.

Your loyalty is your soft spot?

Maybe I'm Secretary of State because he wanted to keep me close, which would explain Russell making overtures to Matt about spying on me.

I'm calling the President of the United States a m*rder*r.

Now is a really good time for you to start talking me off the ledge.

I'm sorry, babe.

(sighs) I got nothing.

What's my next move?

(phone blips, buzzes)

They need me in the Situation Room.

(speaking quietly)

(echoing): Bess.

North Korea's acting out again.

Let's catch you up.