02x16 - Hijriyyah

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Madam Secretary". Aired: September 2014 to December 2019.*
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"Madam Secretary" follows a former CIA analyst and college professor who is promoted to United States Secretary of State as she tries to balance her work and family life.
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02x16 - Hijriyyah

Post by bunniefuu »

(wind whistling, thunder rumbling)

(babies crying)

(frantic shouting)

(frantic shouting continues)

Oh, dang it.

Eat this.

I'm not hungry.

Fascinating. Eat this.

And drink this.

You two are terrifying when you're in agreement.

Get used to it.

Elizabeth: You don't have to know all that stuff by heart, you know.

I want to be prepared.

Classified briefs? The CIA doesn't even read those.

If you look too smart on the first day of school, the other kids won't like you.

(laughs)

Hey, Dad.

Hey.

You look terrible.

Thanks, honey.

Crazy for you to be starting a new job.

I mean, you just got out of the hospital.

It's not a new job; it's more like an aspect of what I'm doing at the w*r College, only less teaching.

So what is it, exactly?

Consulting.

Everybody knows what that's code for, Dad.

It's intelligence work.

Jace, I'm employed by the Defense Department.

You're not blowing the lid off of anything with that observation.

It just seems so soon.

I'm fine, Noodle, really.

Look, eating eggs, drinking juice.

Reading some counter-terrorism... breakfast of champions.

How are you guys doing?

Elizabeth: You know you guys can talk to us about anything.

You went through a lot.

That goes for adult children, too.

Stevie: I know.

I'm fine.

Pre-law is a very overwhelming distraction.

Elizabeth: What about that guy you were seeing, the one with the cute butt?

Mom!

Well, uh, you said it.

Garrett, was it?

Jareth.

David Bowie's character in the Labyrinth?

You're dating the Goblin King?

God, you guys, he's never heard that one before.

So how is he?

He's fine.

We've been busy.

I... (sighs) This conversation is far more stressful than the dirty b*mb, okay?

That's gallows humor; it's a coping method.

(mock gasp)

We want to meet him.

Bye.

I won't say the David Bowie thing.

(chuckles)

(phone vibrates)

(sighs)

White House or State?

White House.

But it's just a text from Blake, so likely three rungs down from imminent doom.

(chuckles softly)

(sighs)

Elizabeth: Make sure your father finishes his breakfast.

Reeves: Just after 0400 hours, a ship carrying Libyan refugees to Italy sent out a distress call during a heavy storm.

At great risk, an Italian Navy warship answered, managed to save all 243 souls aboard, including a man who claims to have seen Jibral Disah in Libya since the att*ck.

Jackson: We only have 20 minutes to decide whether to question him.

Or, in keeping with their policy, the Italians will return the refugees to Libya.

Which is... now overrun by Hizb Al-Shahid, so we'd probably lose whatever potential Intel this man has forever.

Becker: Or he may not have even seen Disah.

Just looking to get off a sinking boat.

But what do we know, Ephraim?

Moussa Al-Mukhtar is a Libyan mechanic from the HS stronghold of Ajdabiya who claims that he was conscripted to fix their vehicles.

He says HS threatened his family if he didn't pledge loyalty.

So they left ASAP for Italy.

General Reeves, how soon can we pick him up?

Elizabeth: Sir, I would advise against bringing him onto our ship.

If news that the U.S. is taking custody of this refugee gets out, it could telegraph our lead to the enemy.

Becker: Mr. President, it doesn't matter where we debrief this man.

The fact is, we're grasping at straws here.

Jackson: I'm no m*llitary man, but I'm pretty good with facts, and the fact is, Hizb Al-Shahid set off a radiological w*apon in the United States.

They still have enough lethal nuclear material for three more bombs, which Jibral Disah won't hesitate to use against us.

And as to his-his location, we know precisely... and again, I don't know the m*llitary parlance here... jack diddly squat.

So even if this mechanic is a straw, I propose we grasp it with both damn hands before a b*mb goes off in Times Square.

Is it still our sacred duty to protect the American way of life, or am I missing something here?

Excuse me, sir.

Well, I guess that answers that.

Keep the operation light.

Tell the Italians that CIA interrogators are on the way.

This could be the break we've been looking for.

Yes, sir.

Well, that was thorough.

Are they gonna make you sign me in every day?

Security's extra spooked.

And only top levels are aware of Hizb Al-Shahid Issue Station.

Tell me there's a code name.

Murphy Station.

For the soap... it's a cleanup mission.

So code names not your gift?

I was in a hurry. And we need to catch you up.

Welcome to Murphy Station.

As everybody knows, this is the front line for our single most important national security priority: to disrupt and dismantle Hizb Al-Shahid.

Meet your fellow team members.

Mimi Jacobs, ex-FBI counter-terrorism turned CIA analyst, with expertise in interrogations.

Masterminds of the U.S.S. Cole and Riyadh compound att*cks.

It was all her.

It's possible I had some help. It's good to meet you.

Henry McCord.

This is Jose Campos, ex-Special Forces, senior Intel CIA operative with tours in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iraq.

If you're glad the Taliban government fell, thank him.

All in a day's work, huh?

And you know Jane Fellows, Army captain, long stint at SOCOM, currently head of HUMINT at DIA.

She's a lauded tactician who's run enough covert ops to keep conspiracy theorists awake at night.

And apparently modest, too.

I didn't know about half that stuff.

(chuckles) Welcome back. Can't keep a good man down.

Well, when I heard I didn't have to take orders from you anymore, they couldn't keep me away.

Henry here is a decorated Marine pilot whose recent DIA work in Russia is the reason we aren't all bundled up for nuclear winter.

He's also a highly regarded theologian with expertise in Islam.

We're fighting a radical ideology as much as any man.

Look, we can talk religion till the sacred cows come home, but at the end of the day, we're a hunter-k*ller team.

We do our job right, and a whole bunch of men are gonna die.

I hope you're on board with that, Professor.

All in a day's work, right?

Jackson: Let's get started.

President's first goal is the k*lling or capture of Jibral Disah before he strikes again.

Now, as we know, he's been in the wind after escaping our drone att*cks on his safe house.

Leads are scarce; they're growing scarcer since several prominent warlords in Libya declared their loyalty to him.

Tripling HS's territory and fighters.

Jackson: Idris Al Bouri, Umar Maziq, Hamza Kubar have all taken HS's lead and are engaged in ruthless campaigns on dissenters.

Henry: Classic totalitarian tactic.

Subdue the populace quickly and brutally, and no one dares speak up.

Jackson: Well, you better find someone who will, and fast.

The entire Defense and IC is working this.

POTUS is even quarterbacking a prospective lead as we speak.

Everything deemed at all credible will be funneled to this room.

You're the tip of the spear.

The work that happens in this room could stop the next att*ck.

Or not.

(phone chimes)

So you didn't lose your phone or let it die.

I, uh... I'll cross those off the list, then.

Jareth. Hi.

Sorry. Um, I was about to text you back, but I'm late for class.

Oh. The brotherly hug.

Have I been put in the friend zone without my knowledge?

What are you talking about?

Let's see.

Unanswered calls and texts, except for the odd cryptic emoji...

Sorry. I've been so crazy...

Saying things like "I have been so crazy."

I'll call you later?

Saying things like "I'll call you later."

I really will.

I thought we liked each other.

Even talked about me meeting your family, if I recall.

We do like each other.

Honestly, I just... I have to go.

Right, well, I'll, uh... let you get on with it, then.

Bloody hell.

No, I won't, will I?

Um, look, this isn't my first rodeo... cowgirl.

Uh... I know what the brush-off feels like.

I just thought that you'd be someone to do it to my face.

Please just do that.

I can't.

Why not?

Because it wouldn't be true.

I still really want to see you.

I'm just really late for class.

I'll call you.

(quietly): Hey.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

I just wanted to apologize for Jose.

Henry: No need. I've met a hundred guys like him in the Marines.

He's an ops guy.

He spent a little too much time outside the wire.

And he's naturally suspicious of analysts like me, who sit indoors with highlighters, looking for odd discrepancies and patterns.

Or professors who spend their day doing close readings of obscure texts.

(chuckles)

So you're an interrogator, too, yeah?

Yeah, it's not as edgy as it sounds.

You just get them in a room and establish a rapport and talk and talk and talk until some little detail reveals what's really going on.

Sounds like raising a teenager.

Where do you think I got my skills?

Look alive, people.

We have visitors.

Hello, everyone.

Sorry to barge in.

This isn't what I had in mind for our first meeting, but right now we're on a tight deadline.

Everybody know Secretary of State McCord?

You can all say your hellos later.

CI interrogators are about to interview a man who claims to have seen Jibral Disah since the att*ck.

This is a live, secure feed from the Italian naval ship that plucked him and 42 other Libyan civilians from a sinking refugee boat last night.

You've got two hours to figure out if this guy's for real.

After that, the Italians want their ship back.

Stop for clarifications, feed the interrogators questions.

That's his file.

Clock's ticking.

Henry: Other than those two occasions, were there any other times he personally saw Jibral Disah?

Moussa, did you see Jibral Disah any other times?

(translating in Arabic)

(speaking Arabic)

Yes. Once they blindfolded me and took me to the desert to work on a truck.

That's when I saw the emir and his wife.

Wait a minute. He went out to the desert and saw Jibral Disah and one of his wives?

Or he's spinning tales to get a visa.

Did they blindfold him or put a hood on him?

Did they blindfold you or put a hood on you?

(translates in Arabic)

(speaks Arabic)

Translator: It was a hood.

What was wrong with the truck?

What was wrong with the truck?

(translates)

(speaking Arabic)

Translator: I worked on the engine.

They overheated it trying to get out of a ditch.

Did they ask him to do anything else to the truck?

Was that the only service you performed?

(translates)

(speaking Arabic)

Translator: I got the clay out of the tires.

They were caked in this red clay.

I had to dig it out for traction.

Look, the other two times he saw Jibral Disah, it was at a distance.

So question is: how did he know it was Jibral Disah?

How did you know it was Disah?

(translates)

(speaking Arabic)

Translator: His picture was on the television every day.

It was four days after the bombing in America.

I'm sure it was him.

How did he know the woman with Jibral Disah was his wife?

How did you know he was with his wife?

(translates)

(speaking Arabic)

Translator: She was wearing a ring.

And he called her "wife."

And I noticed that her hands were red from the red clay, I think.

She was wearing a niqab, of course, so I didn't see her face.

Fellows: CIA's had eyes on both of Jibral Disah's wives in Saudi Arabia since the att*ck.

They haven't left the country.

They know we're watching.

They don't want them to lead us to him.

The question is: who is this woman?

You mean the one in the head-to-toe garbage bag with a hidden face we can't I.D.?

Guess what, she's nobody.

Without corroborating evidence, all we have is Moussa's word on any of this.

So... do we think we have anything here?

The president needs our answer.

You know mine.

So you recommend cutting him loose.

Murphy Station deems his claims, including that Disah was traveling with a wife, not credible.

I'm sorry, sir.

I hoped this would pan out.

So I guess I bawled you out for nothing, Gordon.

Bess, thank the Italians.

They can take him from here.

You mean ship him and the rest of the refugees back to Libya?

They are Libyan citizens on an Italian ship.

Sir, are we really going to send them back to the t*rror1st haven they risked their lives to escape?

This is the U.S., not the U.N.

Well, then let's find a UNHCR camp that'll take them.

Much as I would love to help, these refugees do not fall under our jurisdiction.

Understood.

I'll make the call, sir.

Jane, when does the Italian ship dock in Tripoli?

Uh...

2200. Why?

Have you read the CIA interview with this guy Ramzi Shamekh?

Just the highlights, yeah. He's an old CIA source who they interviewed post-att*ck 'cause he's got a cousin in HS.

Wasn't much else there though, right?

He says Disah used to make frequent visits to the Al Wahat District before and after the att*cks.

Well, that's near our mechanic's village.

So...

So look at the map.

It's famous for its red clay flats.

There's your corroboration.

Two sources that put Disah in the area in the days after the bombing.

And one of them's about to step off a boat and straight into the enemy's hands.

We have to tell Russell.

We don't have time. Now, just back me up here.

I'm going straight to Elizabeth.

We've got to stop that ship.

Elizabeth: The Italians aren't happy, but they didn't dock in Tripoli.

Good.

CIA's reaching out to their source, this Shamekh guy.

We can check his Intel against Moussa's interview, and that'll be that.

Not quite.

The Italians have a price.

Oh, here we go.

The Libyan refugees.

If we want Moussa, they insist we take responsibility for all 243 aboard.

Whoa. Take in refugees from the country that-that harbored the mastermind of a week-old dirty b*mb att*ck?

Yeah, we're not doing that.

Why?

POTUS already announced the U.S. would resettle 20,000 Libyans this year.

That was before the bombing, which is bad enough.

Now the president will be labeled Aider and Comforter in Chief.

Pitch me something else.

Listen, even if we strike intelligence gold, what good will it do if we return these folks to Tripoli and they broadcast what they've seen?

We need to keep them under wraps.

So for a few days of quiet, we buy ourselves a political problem that'll dog us all the way through the election? No, thanks.

What happened to protecting our way of life, Russell?

What happened to your argument about losing our strategic advantage?

I mean, how do you propose to just keep the transfer of 243 people from an Italian naval vessel to an American one out of the news?

Oh, Russell, don't you know me by now?

Joint naval exercises?

Well, you're not really selling it, but yeah.

If the media asks why an American cruiser is docked to an Italian warship, we say....

"Joint naval exercises."

Better. Matt.

Hmm?

Help the Pentagon craft a carefully-worded statement to that effect which actually reveals nothing.

That's the only kind they write.

Three cheers for the bland Soviet-style pronouncements, because I want the media to walk right past this, got it?

Got it.

Okay. And, Nadine, we need to loop in a tight circle on the Hill.

g*ng of Eight.

No one else.

And Jay and Blake can help you with that, okay?

Jay: Wait, what do we tell them, that State is secretly doing intake interviews with Libyan refugees in the Mediterranean?

In order to keep information out of the hands of t*rrorists, yes.

And if the senators raise certain concerns?

About finding Jibral Disah?

Nadine: I believe what Blake is referring to is transferring Libyans to a border camp so soon after the att*ck.

Okay, so remind them that the asylum vetting process is so thorough that it takes a minimum of two years.

Hell, remind them what the plaque on the Statue of Liberty says.

But only if they get shirty with you, okay?

Yes, ma'am.

All right. I want this sewn up by end of day.

And if anyone comes sniffing around, asking what we're up to, we say...

All: "Joint naval exercises."

There we go.

Hey.

The CIA's informant, Shamekh, says he's got significant Intel on Jibral Disah that we're gonna want to hear.

And how much will that cost us?

Five million. Cash.

And he won't talk without a face-to-face handoff at a secured location in Libya.

How do we know he's not working for the bad guys?

Could be a setup.

That's your call.

One of you would do the interrogation, in Libya.

Shamekh wants to meet tomorrow, so you don't have much time to decide.

Shamekh gets his info from his radical t*rror1st cousin.

My guess is, blood ain't the only thing they share.

He does describe himself as a true believer.

I have analyzed his interviews with the CIA closely, and he reads the Qur'an metaphorically.

He views the Hadiths in context.

Yeah, he's devout, but I don't get Salifist jihadist from him.

Well, I'm sold.

He's practically Episcopalian.

Let's cut the check.

A true fundamentalist wouldn't even hint at such beliefs.

He'd be an apostate.

Maybe he's playing us for the money.

I mean, this whole thing could be a shakedown.

Whatever it is, it stinks and the timeline's too short, and we should keep walking.

I need a decision.

I guess the question is: is how confident are you in your assessment, Henry?

Look, I can't predict what this guy's gonna do, but from where I sit... he's a survivor, he's not a radical.

I agree.

Yeah. Me, too.

Okay, then. Let's go for it.

I'll take it to POTUS.

In the meantime, Mimi, you're up.

Let's put those famous interrogation skills to work.

I guess I got some packing to do.

(quietly): You better hope you're right, Professor.

So the kids got the PG version...

(sniffs)

...of dad's first day.

What's really up?

We can actually talk now.

I know that Conrad approved the meet with Shamekh for tomorrow.

The CIA's improvising a safe house in a country overrun by t*rrorists.

Mimi's on a plane as we speak.

It spooks me how quickly we're moving.

Hey, the government could take months to send a tax refund; when it comes to spy stuff, we move fast.

(chuckles)

Stevie: Okay. I will see you there.

Okay. So, just to put your mind at ease about my social life, guess who's coming to dinner tomorrow?

Jared?

Jareth. Like the David Bowie movie.

You guys, you have to get all this stuff out of your system now.

You can't embarrass me with him.

Oh, I think we can.

Like falling off a log.

Seriously.

I like him.

Plus, he's British, so he might not even get your sense of humor.

I heard we're huge in the U.K.

(British accent): We will be proper citizens.

(chuckles)

Oh, my...

Should I cook?

Um... Of course not. What should we order?

I'll cook. You just show up and be cool.

We can do that, I swear.

Okay. Good night.

God, it'll be nice to do something normal.

I wonder how old he is.

We like him.

Got it.
(elevator bell dings)

Uh-oh.

Anxious Daisy face.

So, I swatted back most reporters, but one called his senator for comment.

That senator would be Carlos Morejon from Arizona.

It's not a good thing.

He ran on a strict anti-immigration platform.

His slogan was...

Yes, yes, I remember.

"Keep Arizona secure for the Arizonans."

That's it.

Really just rolls right off your tongue.

Well, he sniffed around, found out about the Libyan refugees.

He's holding a press conference to denounce the plan tonight.

Right before the Shamekh meet.

He's gonna blow it up.

And risk the lives of ten intelligence agents in the process.

Nadine, will you get me Senator Morejon right away, please.

(door opens, closes)

Senator Morejon.

Welcome.

The inner sanctum.

(chuckles) Please, have a seat.

Oh, you know, I've tried to get meetings before, but you're always booked.

But it looks like I have your attention now.

Unfortunately, it has to be short.

I have a press conference.

Call it off, Senator.

It's a matter of national security.

And the matter is?

Classified.

But American lives are at stake.

Oh, yes, because of this reckless and secretive plan that you've cooked up to bring a boatload of potential t*rrorists to our shores.

Senator, you know as well as I that only a fraction of the one percent of the nearly one million refugees admitted to the U.S. since 9/11 have ever been arrested on terrorism charges.

It only takes one.

Look at the dirty b*mb.

Which was perpetrated by a native-born American citizen.

Good folks in my state know the difference between native-born and real, and I'm wondering if you do.

Morejon... that's a Cuban name, right?

When did your parents arrive in the U.S.?

I'm guessing that you know the answer to that.

Of course I do; I'm the Secretary of State.

They were Marielitos, part of the boatlift of 1980.

They were fleeing a repressive regime.

Which is why the good folks in these parts gave them visas...

That you and your president have cravenly cozied up to.

...instead of smearing them as potential Communist sleeper agents sent to destroy our way of life.

But, hell, your boat made it here... what do you care, right?

You should watch my press conference.

I have a lot to say about you.

You have a good day, Madam Secretary.

My children were at that blast, and my husband suffered radiation poisoning.

Where were you that day?

At a fund-raiser in Phoenix.

So cut the bluster and sit down. I'm gonna read you in.

One second.

TECHOPS is having trouble with the line.

Marhaba!

Greetings from Libya.

Mimi, good to see you.

How are things looking over there?

Our perimeter is secure.

ISR drones on all roads in and out.

Our side of the equation's tight.

Any word from Shamekh?

He's en route.

We just have to cool our heels till he gets here.

Russell, I got to say... your ability to gather five million in 24 hours... remember that when I ask for a raise.

(chuckles) After this, you'll deserve one.

We'll see you in a bit.

Yep.

Well, it's press conference o'clock.

Daisy says Morejon's office is quiet for now.

Keep her on him through the whole meet.

(phone vibrating)

If he goes near a camera, she's ordered to pull a fire alarm.

It's Stevie.

Hey, honey, what's up? I'm just rushing into a meeting.

Now? Jareth's arriving any minute.

That was tonight?

You forgot?

(sighs) I was preoccupied with work and I forget to tell Blake.

Forget to tell Blake what?

Seriously, you're not coming?

There is a lot going on here today. Baby, I'm sorry.

What about Dad?

He's working, too.

It's special circumstances.

I'm so sorry.

It's okay. I'm sure it's important.

Let's reschedule.

I really want to meet him.

I promise I'll be cool.

And show up?

Okay, you get to have that.

(doorbell rings)

That's him. I got to go.

Okay, have fun. I love you.

Now, don't get too excited.

These are for your mum.

Oh, very strategic.

I hail from the land of common sense.

(chuckles)

Right.

So, slight change of plan.

Um, as it turns out...

Mr. President.

Bess.

(quietly): Did you remember the Jareth dinner tonight?

That was tonight?

That's what I said.

(sighs)

Director Ware, we have eyes on a vehicle approaching.

Copy, Babylon.

Can you get a positive I.D.?

Copy.

Confirming.

It's Shamekh's jeep, approaching from the north as planned.

Are we sure Shamekh's driving?

Not yet. We'll confirm at the checkpoint.

What happens after the initial approach?

Once we I.D. Shamekh, one of our guys will direct him to a designated parking area.

Then Agent Jacobs escorts him in and begins the interrogation.

I.D. confirmed.

It's Shamekh.

We've told him to park at the wall, a safe distance from the house.

♪ ♪

Slowly.

(speaking Arabic)

(men shouting)

Get him out of there.

Quick Reaction Force, engage.

(shouts in Arabic)

EXFIL operators.

Babylon, talk to me.

Babylon, are you hit?

(all murmuring)

(sighs)

What went wrong?

Nothing about Shamekh presents as Jihadi.

Somehow they played us.

Because that's what they do.

They sit around and think about how to k*ll people all day long.

Something happened, I'm telling you.

The guy is not a martyr. He's in it for the money.

CIA and DNI will comb the scene, evaluate security breaches.

Forensics will gather any b*mb fragments for analysis.

It wasn't your fault, babe.

She had kids, you know... Mimi.

I know.

Automated voice: Well done!

(lasers f*ring)

(chuckles softly)

Oh.

Alison just texted.

She is stuck at a friend's house studying for midterms, so more for us.

I actually prefer eating in bulk.

Makes me feel American.

What is that?

Caramelized onion risotto.

Looks like hospital food.

Jareth: As it turns out, I love hospital food.

If it looks like that, which it doesn't.

I might've overcooked it.

Seriously, stuff they gave Dad... exact same color.

Your dad was in hospital?

Not really.

Last week.

He was in and out.

I hope you like garlic, because this is loaded.

"In and out"? He was in critical condition.

Jason, if you're just gonna make fun of my food, you can leave the table.

I'm not talking about your food anymore; I'm talking about Dad.

Know what? That's it. You're done.

What?

What's your problem?!

Nothing!

(dishes clattering)

Get out while you can, dude.

Okay.

What's going on?

(sniffles) I just really wanted tonight to be nice.

And my parents couldn't be here.

Which is understandable.

My brother's being a jerk.

He's being fine.

And I messed up the risotto.

Yeah, that's true, but... that doesn't explain it.

Tell me.

Your dad... he's sick?

Is that it?

Uh, no, he's fine now.

He had, um... he had radiation poisoning.

He was at the b*mb blast?

Yeah.

So was Jason and Alison.

So was I.

Why didn't you tell me?

The truth is, I...

I don't know.

As long as I was worrying about how everyone else was feeling, I didn't... I didn't have to think about how I was feeling.

And it's just hitting me all at once.

And part of me... thinks if I don't talk about it, then I don't have to deal with it.

Which I've had enough psychology to know isn't true.

I'll probably just develop, uh, a tic or a skin condition or something.

Serious drug habit.

Can't rule out kleptomania.

(laughs)

Ah, see.

That is the problem.

You're fun.

We're fun and...

Yeah.

This thing that happened to me is just so not fun.

It's just, all of a sudden, everything is... it's dark and serious because of me.

No. No.

Because of some lunatic with a b*mb.

Will be fun again, I promise.

I mean, maybe not with me, but someone will come along.

(laughs)

Daisy: This girl was forced to marry an HS fighter who r*ped her every night until she escaped with her newborn daughter.

Blake: Then she handed over all her money and climbed onto some criminal's leaky boat with her child.

Just to get away.

Each one of these files is a life.

And this is just one boat.

And yet, almost every one of them says that if it were possible, they'd stay in Libya.

It's home.

(Elizabeth sighs)

Sit. Sit.

We were sorry to hear about the op in Libya.

You have our condolences.

It wasn't the outcome anyone had hoped for.

But we still have work.

Now we can transfer the refugees off our ship into Camp Blickstein in New Mexico for processing.

(sighs)

After everything they've been through, these people deserve some stability.

Unfortunately, starting interdepartmental vetting opens them to scrutiny.

Jay: And you can believe Senator Morejon will stoke the flames.

Well, even if he passed a bill to block them, Dalton would veto it.

So we are full steam ahead.

Nadine, make this a priority.

Yeah.

These people matter, and they're not going back.

(shouting, expl*si*n over computer)

Hey.

Hey.

(shouting, expl*si*n over computer repeats)

Everybody's asleep.

Any word on the Jareth dinner?

No.

How about you?

I'm not tired.

Henry, you're obsessing.

You got to put it down for the night.

(sighs)

I've gone over Shamekh's files.

I've thought about this from every angle.

And still, given everything, I would make the same call.

So what are you doing?

Looking.

For what we missed, I guess.

(phone ringing)

Hi, Russell.

Any news?

Are you with Elizabeth?

Yeah, she's right here.

Good.

She'll want to hear this.

Got something.

(phone beeps)

Forensics pieced together Shamekh's vest.

It was remotely detonated.

Looks like they didn't trust him to go through with the bombing.

So he wasn't radicalized, he was coerced.

HS must have made him.

They're still examining the various recordings, trying to get a fuller picture, but I wanted you to know.

Okay, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow.

(phone beeps)

They must have threatened his family.

It was his only way out.

(sighs)

You heard him, babe.

It's not on you.

Yeah.

Come on.

Let's go to bed, okay?

(groans)

Uh... I'll be right up.

(shouting, expl*si*n over computer repeats)

(shouting, expl*si*n over computer repeats)

Morning, everybody.

How's it going?

Chemistry midterm?

Ugh, my brain is turning to mush.

(chuckles)

I believe the term is "catalytic conversion."

Not for her. It's called stasis.

And look at that. Everything's back to normal.

These two are bickering, this one's not speaking to us.

Well, she has a point.

No, I'm not mad at you guys.

I'm too busy b*ating myself up.

For what?

Cooking a bowl of slop and acting like a freak?

Jason.

He's right.

I'm sure you didn't.

You know what, tell him it was our fault and invite him back, and we'll order in.

Everybody wins.

I don't think we have to worry about that happening.

If he's smart, he's long gone.

Dad, can you drive me to school?

I need to study in the car.

Sure.

(phone ringing)

Hello.

Okay.

Yeah, send him in. I think he knows the way.

Well, he can't be that smart.

(mouthing)

What?

Good morning.

I come bearing delicacies of my homeland.

Oh, God, I hope you mean scones.

Well, it's not bangers and mash.

(laughs)

Madam Secretary, hi.

Dr. McCord, pleasure.

I'm Jareth, like the David Bowie movie.

Nice.

Very nice to meet you.

Welcome back.

Uh, Jason I've met.

You must be Alison.

Hi.

Hi.

You must be hungry.

(chuckles) Why?

Because I cooked an inedible meal?

Because it's the morning and you cooked an inedible meal.

(laughs)

Dad, we actually really have to go.

Henry: Okay.

Sorry, Jareth.

Not at all. One for the road, please.

(phone vibrating)

Excuse me a minute.

Hey, Nadine.

Morejon wants to do what?

(talking quietly)

How much time?

Um, tell the White House I'm-I'm leaving now.

Jareth, um, I really do look forward to getting to know you better.

We have time.

(mouthing)

Jackson: Where does a junior senator get the stones to sue the president?

In a democracy, there is indeed a thing called checks and balances.

The Justice Department tried to have the injunction dismissed, but the presiding judge is dyed-in-the-wool anti-immigration.

And once Morejon files it, the refugee vetting process will drag on even longer.

And I hate to say it, but a highly public court case would make holding onto 200 Libyan refugees politically untenable for you, sir.

I didn't intend to take responsibility for these people, but now that we have, I'm not going to just send them back.

Well, you're the president.

Accepting refugees is your prerogative.

Elizabeth: Well, maybe we just have to remind the senator from Arizona of that.

(crowd cheering)

Good morning, everybody!

Yeah. Here it is.

We're gonna do it.

We're here to show you that we mean business.

(cameras clicking)

Senator Morejon.

I'm... whew... so glad I caught you.

You won't silence me again.

What I'm doing is legal.

So is this.

U.S. Refugee Act of 1980?

Section 207.

It gives the president authority to admit refugees to the U.S. in emergency situations.

Doesn't apply.

My injunction is about his executive order.

True.

You can still ban these 243 refugees, specifically.

But when the president pledged to accept 20,000 Libyans, he also will have the authority to place them in any state he sees fit.

For instance, they might feel right at home in the dry desert climate of your great state.

(sighs)

And they'll have you to thank.

Well, some of your constituents might not see it that way.

But then again, one of those young refugees could grow up to become a United States senator.

And isn't that what America's all about?

You have a great day...

Senator.

(cameras clicking, reporters murmuring)

Oh, babe.

Just bear with me, okay?

I went back and looked at the recordings that Russell mentioned, but this time, I knew that Shamekh was coerced.

I think I found something.

Here.

In this, Shamekh is running towards camera, so the audio's better.

You speak Arabic, so listen to this and tell me if I'm crazy or is this guy using his last moment on Earth to tell us something.

(taps keyboard)

(shouting, expl*si*n over headphones)

Elizabeth: He says "Hijriyyah." It's a woman's name.

So he called for his mommy. How does that help us?

Elizabeth: No.

No one in Shamekh's family or affiliates has that name.

Fine then, it's his favorite sled.

It means something.

It is a very specific, highly unusual name in Arabic.

He's right.

In fact, I came across it last night.

Idris Al Bouri... the w*rlord.

And his daughter...

Hijriyyah.

Al Bouri announced his allegiance the day before our mechanic says he saw Jibral Disah.

And his wife. But he only got a glimpse of her hand, red with clay.

Or-or henna, a traditional Muslim bridal ritual.

She wasn't one of Jibral Disah's existing wives.

She was his new bride.

So Al Bouri gives her up to Jibral Disah?

Not gives, betroths.

An insurance policy by allying himself with Disah through blood.

Well, why didn't we know about it?

Why the big secret?

Okay, you're the most wanted man in the world.

You're hunted down like an animal, yet you take on a new young bride anyway?

But you keep it a secret...

Because she is actually important to him.

That's a weakness we can exploit.

So we find the third wife, and sooner or later... we find the enemy.
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