01x03 - L.A. Takedown

[bunniefuu]

Previously on "The Player"...

Johnson: Mr. Kane... we gamble on crime.

Rain check. It's Ginny.

Say hi to the wife for me.

Ex-wife.

I don't like a life that you're not in.

[g*n cocks]

Ginny: Alex!

No. No.

Who brought her in?

Some FBI agent signed off on the paperwork.

Why do you need a DNA test?

Do me a favor and run this one off-book.

Do you want to find your wife?

I would do anything for Ginny.

Then let me help you.

♪

[clicking]

[clicking]

[engine revving, tires screeching]

[g*nsh*t]

[techno music plays]

Alex: Hey, Donovan.

Hey.

Thanks for coming.

Anytime.

So, what's the deal?

Kind of cranking the tunes.

You ready for an all-nighter?

I brought my gear.

Ready to rock and roll.

Good.

I need you to do a job, but I need you to stay here till it's done.

Wow, okay.

Uh, done with what, and what's with the...?

[beep, music stops]

A cellphone jammer?

Haven't seen that much anti-surveillance tech since DEF CON.

[beeps]

The case I'm working on is extremely sensitive.

An S.D. card?

I need all the information off of it... everything.

Okay, so just buy a cheap phone and...

Yeah, that's the thing.

It can never come in contact with anything tied to any sort of network.

Not cellular, Wi-Fi, or hardwired.

If it's network capable, this card doesn't touch it.

Okay.

And I need it all.

Voicemails, pics, all in analogue format.

Okay, you know I'd do anything for you.

You know that.

Mm-hmm.

But... you're kind of freaking me out right now.

The card. It was Ginny's.

[sighs] Dude.

What are you doing?

First you got me checking her DNA, and now this?

What's the deal?

Can you do it or not?

Yeah, I can do it, yeah.

[computer chimes]

[beeps]

[cellphone ringing]

Hey, Donovan.

Yeah?

Whatever's on that card, that's just between you and me.

It's a lot safer that way.

Wait, wait, hang on. "Safer"?

Safe from what?

Dude!

Cassandra: Three dead.

Three sh**t in three days...

Phoenix, San Diego, and now Los Angeles.

Huh. It's like the Beltway sn*pers in D.C. all over again.

Muhammed and Malvo were sh**ting from 100 yards away.

Child's play.

Our sh**t's hitting from 800, 1,000 meters out.

The man is skilled.

From that range, it's more than skill... it's elite.

There's maybe 40 people in the world who could take that sh*t.

Cassandra: The three victims were from all walks of life.

No apparent connection to one another.

And people are beginning to panic.

And that piques the interest of the gamblers.

[chuckles]

So I'm going to Los Angeles?

Well, the House is in Vegas, but crime is everywhere.

We go where the action is.

The bet.

[computer warbling]

Can Alex Kane stop the Southwest sn*per before he kills again?

Cassandra will be accompanying you to Los Angeles.

Mr. Kane, good luck.

I feel confident you're gonna need it.

How about the, um... the other thing?

Ah. I have messages out of my contacts.

Any information we find out about your wife, I'll tell you immediately.

I assume you'll extend the same courtesy.

Of course.

Of course.

[computer warbling]

So, do you go on all the out-of-town gigs?

The Dealer is your resource, remember?

Sometimes proximity can be quite helpful.

The Dealer.

Talking about yourself in the third person.

Is that in the training manual, or is that a personal choice?

The Dealer will prep the jet.

We have a jet?

♪ ♪

Hey, Cassandra, what do you got?

Wildlife and trail cameras were disabled.

Probably by the sn*per himself.

Re-watching the traffic-cam footage, though, look at this.

See the red Mercedes going 30 at best?

It's an easy target, yet the sn*per passes it up.

Our victim, Jamey Cook, on the other hand, he is all over the place.

He even slips behind that truck.

But he waits for him to clear.

The sh**t aren't random.

Jamey Cook was the target.

My thoughts exactly.

What are you seeing down there?

Anything of note?

Eh, 12 hours later, they're all still on the wrong side of the road.

Probably some know-nothing agent in charge who made the wrong call.

Everyone's afraid to tell him he was wrong.

Is that why you went into Special Ops?

Tired of taking orders from know-nothings?

[chuckles] Something like that.

Are you sure it just wasn't because you wanted to sh**t a lot of people?

I suppose you fell into your line of work because of your pleasant speaking voice?

High school jobs fair, actually.

No, seriously, where'd they find you?

Me, I'm a g*n. I get it.

But you, there can't be too many of you out there.

Flattery, Alex? Really?

Does that ever work for you?

Kind of, yeah.

Well, I'm not just gonna give up all my secrets.

That would spoil the mystery.

I think I found the sn*per's nest.

That doesn't fit.

What doesn't?

He left his brass behind.

Guys who could make that sh*t, they wouldn't be that sloppy.

♪

[expl*si*n]

[grunts]

Alex? You all right?

Yeah.

Yeah. I'm fine.

The nest was booby-trapped.

Who booby traps a sn*per's nest?

Cartel sn*pers, that's who.

Brass was a .50-cal.

So it's either the Molinas or the Garza Cartel.

I'm betting it was the Garzas.

Huh.

Can you do me a favor, see what Ada thinks?

On it.

Man: There's something up there.

Oh. The police heard the blast.

I'm heading down.

Understood. Good guess, by the way.

Ada indicates a spike in Garza Cartel communications in the cities these murders took place.

All to burner phones.

How did you know?

Well, their sh**t's a bit of a legend.

Aaron Suarez.

You know those 40 guys I told you about who could make that sh*t?

He's in the top 10.

95 confirmed kills, last time I checked.

98 now, it seems.

[computer warbling]

[computer beeps]

Sorry to say, Alex. The odds are not in your favor.

♪ ♪

Wow. Nice place.

You have one of these in every city?

And a sailor in every port.

The resources of the House are vast.

Vast enough to tell us who Suarez's next target is?

Narrowing my focus to Mexico, I determined all three victims visited this area five years ago.

Only one of them flew.

The rest drove, which is why it took some digging.

Los Robles.

That's where the trail goes cold.

This town might as well exist in the Stone Age.

There's only one hotel, and the records aren't online.

No traffic or security cams anywhere.

Any drug arrests in the victims' pasts?

Anything connecting them to the Garzas?

A few traffic tickets.

Jamey Cook got caught with a joint once at university.

Nothing major.

Huh.

Can you bring up the victims' photos?

Social media, the cloud, everything.

[computer beeping]

What am I looking for?

So, no arrests, no contacts with the cartels.

Not a lot of options.

[computer beeps]

What if... what if they were just on vacation?

What if they just saw something they weren't supposed to see?

Vacation doing what?

The only thing there is to do in that part of Mexico.

Wait... stop there. On the left.

David Mino.

In scuba gear.

Keep the other two going.

There.

And the clincher...

Why'd you stop it?

Luminox Deep Dive watch. Good to 500 meters.

[chuckles]

Three strangers meet on a dive trip, and five years later, a cartel assassin kills them all.

Why?

How fast can you get me to Mexico?

We find out who else was on that dive trip, we find Suarez's next target, and that gets us Suarez.

[telephone rings]

Brown.

Detective Brown, this is Special Agent Rose Nolan with the FBI.

I've just sent you a file. Did you receive it?

[keyboard clacking]

Uh, yeah.

I got it.

This related to one of my cases?

Justin Foucault has been on my radar as part of a domestic terror investigation for the last year.

Several days ago, his girlfriend, Chloe Steele, reported him missing.

And that missing persons report just made it to my desk.

Getting on a plane to Vegas right now, but I need someone to talk to the girlfriend right away.

Yeah, missing persons isn't really my thing, um, Agent, uh...

Nolan.

Listen, your name was up first alphabetically on the L.V.P.D. detectives list, but if you can't handle it, I can give Detective, uh, Cavell a ring.

I need someone to do this right away, and I'd consider it a personal favor.

You know what?

I think I can free up an hour or two to visit Ms. Steele.

[printer whirring]

[creak]

[whirring continues]

[chuckles]

Chill, man. You're freaking yourself out.

[grunts]

Good, good, good.

[computer warbles]

Mm.

[chuckles]

Nice try, Mr. Kane.

[beeps]

[cellphone rings]

[cellphone beeps]

Cassandra.

Mr. Johnson, I've detected web activity relating to our former Player, Justin Foucault.

That Detective Brown seems to be looking into his disappearance.

Oh, that's to be expected.

Man goes missing, people are gonna look for him.

It's interesting that it's our friend Detective Brown, though.

An FBI agent pulled him into the investigation... an Agent Rose Nolan.

Huh, never heard of her.

Keep an eye on the situation.

Of course.

Okay.

Alex, let's see what you've been up to.

♪

[brake engages]

[birds calling]

Cassandra: Alex, are you reading me?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm in the dive shop.

With a few simple modifications, I can use your phone to access their system, see if the victims were ever even there.

Yeah, I don't think you're gonna have a lot of luck with that.

You still underestimating me, Alex?

I think you're overestimating them.

We're gonna have to do this low tech.

Hi there, sir. How are you?

I'm wondering if you could help me.

I'm looking for a few friends of mine that were here about five years ago.

Do you, uh, recognize any of these people?

You know, uh, this guy?

What about, uh... what about this?

I cannot help you, my friend.

Sorry.

We haven't got time for this.

Can't you just break his arm or something?

That's certainly low tech.

This here, this your grandson?

Mi nieto.

The people in those pictures I showed you, they're all dead.

They had families, too. Sons and daughters.

I need your help to tell me what happened and who's next, or more people are gonna die.

How about this.

Do you, um... do you write anything down, you keep any records of any kind, any sort?

Anything like that?

No, no.

Just tell me with your eyes.

That way you can honestly tell the Cartel you didn't say anything to me.

♪ ♪

Hi there. I was just, uh...

[speaks Spanish]

...just having a little look.

Or we could do this.

[grunts]

Aah!

Alex, what's going on?

I just had to break a guy's arm.

I hope you're happy.

Alex, looks like your dive shop's just got very popular.

You've got company coming.

[cellphone camera shutter clicking]

Alex, go now.

I think I found Suarez's next target.

It's a Bob Sturm. He was down here with his son.

Okay, I'll get on it, but Alex, you've got hostiles incoming in three, two, one.

[engines revving]

♪

[g*nf*re]

Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

I'll see what I can do.

♪ One of many children ♪

Aah!

[g*nf*re continues]

Alex, I've got something.

There's a town up ahead.

Stay on the road.

Or you could completely disregard what I'm saying.

I'm not leading a small army of cartel thugs into a populated area.

You got to find me another way!

Alex, I'm blind. There's no satellite.

[g*nf*re continues]

Come on!

♪ Cash in now, honey ♪
♪ Cash in now ♪
♪ Cash in now, baby ♪

Wait.

I think I've got something.

♪ Cash in now, honey ♪
♪ Cash in, Miss Smith ♪
♪ Cash in now, baby ♪
♪ Oh, oh, oh ♪

Come on.

Cassandra.

I'm on it.

The D.E.A. carelessly left a drone in the air.

And here we go.

Alex, I've got you.

Hallelujah.

You want to tell me how to get out of this alive?

[expl*si*n]

There's a canyon up ahead.

When I tell you, make the sharpest right you've ever made.

I go in that canyon, I'm trapped.

Alex, you need to trust me.

You sure about this?

Easy money.

♪ She was holding it back ♪

Almost there.

♪ Jumping out of my flesh, and I said ♪

Wait for it.

I'm kind of running out of road here.

[computer beeps]

Now.

[tires screech]

♪ Cash in now, honey ♪
♪ Cash in now ♪

See?

Yeah... easy money.

[keyboard clacking]

[gasps]

Don't turn around.

I said...

Sorry.

Drink the water, take the pills.

You want me to take the pills?

Aspirin, for your headache.

Are you familiar with the principals of jiu-jitsu?

Maximum effect with minimal effort.

With a small amount of pressure applied to your carotid artery, I stopped the blood flow to your brain.

Imagine what I could do if I decided that you were worth just a little more effort.

Wait! Wait! Please.

Look, I've thought about this, and if someone were to, like, pull out my toenails or something, I would just talk, okay?

I mean, I love Alex, but I got a mom and a dad.

Yes, yes.

Mary and Dan McDowell.

Lovely people, by all appearances.

Oh, God, please.

What did Mr. Kane say to you?

And I want to know exactly what he said.

Every word, every detail.

Can you do that for me?

You're gonna k*ll me, aren't you?

Well, like so very many things in the universe, it's entirely possible.

Cassandra: Still no idea why the Garza Cartel would want Bob Sturm dead.

As far as I can tell, he's a harmless book editor.

Where is he now?

Cellphone indication puts him in his house in West L.A.

But an hour ago, he booked a flight to Hong Kong.

Trying to get out of town, it seems.

And no tickets for the rest of the family?

No.

Bob's wife passed a couple of months before he and his son went to Los Robles.

Still trying to locate the son.

I'd hurry, by the way.

Sturm's flight leaves in three hours.

And Suarez will be waiting.

Bob won't even make it out the front door.

♪

Baby, I'm gonna be five minutes, okay?

[sighs]

Justin was acting funny for months.

[dishes clatter]

Disappearing for hours, days when I couldn't get ahold of him.

Coming back with bruises he couldn't explain.

You know he was Delta Force.

I saw that.

You know, sometimes I think he never left that life at all.

Like he was part of some secret commando unit or something.

He would get these calls from a blocked number.

And the last time he did, I could hear a woman's voice.

You could imagine how that made me feel, so I followed him.

And you saw this woman?

[sighs]

They met in a parking lot.

They talked for a few minutes, then they both got in their cars and they left.

It was the last time I saw Justin.

So, this woman, can you describe her?

She was blonde.

Pretty, I guess, if you like that kind of thing.

Little glammed-up for my taste.

I tried to take a picture of her.

You "tried"? What happened?

Nothing.

I got it.

It's just not gonna help you any.

[cellphone clicks]

[cellphone whooshes]

See?

Her face came out blurry.

Camera glitch or something.

[sighs]

Can you send me a copy of that?

Still nothing on the son?

A string of school suspensions and a misdemeanor arrest before he dropped out of high school as a sophomore.

No cellphone that I can find.

I get to the Dad in time, maybe he can help.

Bob's phone's still pinging at his house.

You'll be there in less than a minute.

[tires screech]

Cassandra. Check out this plate.

[cellphone camera shutter clicks]

It's parked across from Bob's house.

[keyboard clacking]

[computer beeps]

Reported stolen an hour ago.

It's Suarez.

Do you have eyes out here?

I'm in Bob's home-security system.

[camera whirring]

Okay, the back window of the van just opened.

I think Suarez might be planning to take a sh*t from inside there.

If you're inside his security system, can you find me a way in?

One moment.

[keyboard clacking]

[computer beeps]

Alex, he's going out the front door right now.

Get back inside!

Get back inside!

Bob: No, no! Please! Don't!

[grunts]

[g*nsh*t]

Aah!

[engine turns over, tires squeal]

Alex!

I don't have a sh*t.

Hey, uh, uh, you need to call an ambulance, okay?

You need to get a... a doctor to look at this.

Nobody's going anywhere until you tell me what happened in Los Robles five years ago.

You just sh*t me, man. I'm not telling you anything.

I saved your life.

The guy who's after you, he's one of the most dangerous men in the world.

And when he sh**t you, Bob, he's not gonna sh**t you here.

He's gonna sh**t you here.

Now, do you want to tell me what's going on so I can find this guy?

[inhales sharply]

It was a... last-minute trip.

My... my wife, Laura, had just passed.

I-I thought a trip like that would help bring me and my son... you know, closer together.

After the last dive, one of the guys there offered to give us all a ride back into town, and... on the way, we came across two cars that were completely on fire.

There had been an accident, and... everyone was dead.

And there was this, uh, duffel bag.

Must've gotten thrown from one of the cars, I guess.

It was full of cash.

Let me guess.

You kept it.

We split it up.

[scoffs]

We figured the dead guy wouldn't miss it. And... anybody who knew about it would assume that it had burnt up in a fire.

[sighs]

Yeah. Only it was cartel money.

They don't assume and they don't forget.

They probably went over every inch of that wreckage.

They knew someone took their money.

And here we are, five years later, and they've tracked you down.

My... my... my son, he said we shouldn't take it.

He said we should leave it there.

He was 13 years old and smarter than all of us.

Jake used to look up to me.

After that, he wouldn't even look at me.

First Laura and then Jake.

Take people for granted, and then...

Hey.

I know.

Well... when they released the names of the victims this morning from the sn*per, I-I... I knew I was next.

I knew I had to get out of town.

Wait, where... where's your son?

What, you think the Cartel's gonna let him live just 'cause he was a boy when you stole their money?

Jake didn't take any money.

Yeah, but they don't know that.

They could care less.

You got to tell me where your son is.

I don't know where he is. [stammers]

The last I knew, he was couch surfing.

You know, he won't... he won't talk to me.

He won't take anything from me.

He hates me.

You know, he... he... he changes his phone number all the time.

He has to get the cheap pre-paid phones.

I have to beg his friends just to give me the phone numbers. They don't...

Can you remember the last few numbers for your son?

Okay, okay. I-I can do that.

I-I've written them down e-ever since he moved out.

They're... they're in a notebook.

Cassandra: None of the numbers Bob had for Jake worked out, so I cross-referenced the text messages sent by Jake's previous numbers, and there.

Got him.

He's at a music festival Downtown.

Any chance we can pinpoint him in there?

Uh, we could.

[keyboard clacking]

He's gonna be a needle in a mosh pit.

[computer beeps]

Answer that.

Answer what?

Your phone.

[cellphone rings]

Mexican country code. Could be Suarez.

[cellphone beeps]

Kane.

Incredible, you sh*t him. I did not see that coming.

Has anyone ever told you you're a real pain in the ass?

Yeah, women mostly.

You're just mad I b*at you to the punch, Suarez.

Maybe you're losing a step. Happens to the best of us.

So you know who I am. Good.

My people have discovered who you are, Alex Kane.

FBI, Counter Terrorism.

A professional, which I respect, so why don't we act like professionals, huh?

Name your price to walk away.

♪

[sighs]

Oh, well, now you've seen my face.

A precarious position for you, Mr. McDowell.

I swear to God, I won't say a thing.

I mean, I don't even know who you are, man.

Precisely.

That's why I'm going to tell you who I am.

On occasion, you might hear about a hacker.

Someone not unlike yourself.

His world totally destroyed.

Top-secret D.o.D., CIA documents found on his system.

He will swear he has no idea how they got there.

But he'll still be locked up, without a trial, ordered by a secret court.

Never, ever to be seen again.

I'm the guy that does that to people.

That's who I am.

Do you understand?

Say it.

I understand.

Good.

Now I'm gonna tell you what you're gonna do for me.

Alex [chuckles] there's no reason for you to be involved.

Robert Sturm and his son and the others stole from the Cartel.

My employer simply wishes to find justice for this theft.

And really, it's... it's the principle of the thing.

Yeah, and getting paid? Where does that figure in?

I didn't realize justice came so cheap.

Damascus, Budapest, Khartoum. Ring a bell?

I know your body count, Alex.

Frankly, I think you're being a bit of a hypocrite.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

This is all really fascinating stuff, Suarez.

How about we get together, huh?

Talk about how ludicrous justice is when it involves k*lling an innocent boy.

Have you found him yet?

Because I have.

Well, then we'll be seeing each other soon after all.

[chuckles]

No.

I'll see you.

And then you'll be done. Nothing personal.

[indistinct conversations]

Cassandra: He b*at us there.

If he gets to Jake, the bet is lost.

You tried calling Jake to warn him, right?

No answer.

Keep trying.

Get the number to his dad at the safe house.

Maybe he'll have better luck.

Given their relationship, I wouldn't hold out too much hope.

Yeah, it's his son. We've got to let him try.

Hey, Cassandra, when does the concert end?

It's an all-day festival, but based on Jake's music-streaming activity, he's there to see the band Ragonk, whose set will be finished in a little over an hour.

And Suarez will be waiting.

He'll take Jake out the second he steps out of the theater.

Or me, if I get anywhere near.

What are you thinking?

I'm thinking I don't get anywhere near.

I'm gonna need a serious r*fle.

That I can do.

♪

You really do have everything.

The resources of the House...

Are vast, right. I get it.

So, you're weapons trained.

S.A.S. or Royal Marines?

AWM's a British r*fle.

Then there's the accent.

Devonshire, right?

[scoffs] I hope you're joking.

Any rule that says I can't use you as my spotter?

I am your resource to deploy in any manner you see fit.

[chuckles]

[g*n cocks]

[exhales]

[rock music playing]

Thanks.

[cellphone ringing]

[cellphone beeps]

What if Suarez is at street level sh**ting from the van again?

No.

It's too congested down there.

He'll sh**t from range, get himself lots of separation for a getaway.

Crowded place, multiple exits.

Could've picked an easier spot to k*ll Jake.

Yeah. Yeah, that's the point.

When it comes down to it, the guy's a showoff.

Every sh*t he takes is calculated to show the world what a badass he is.

Well, looking in all these windows, it occurred to me.

Where do you live? Do you have an apartment?

Are you asking if I'm homeless?

Maybe you just roll out a cot and catch your zeds in the tech room.

What makes you think I require sleep?

There you go. Royal Marines.

Because I know "zeds" is slang for sleep?

Clever.

Alex, corner of the construction site, 21st floor.

Range 200 meters.

Windage 5 to 8, 7:00 path value.

What are you doing?

[helicopter blades whirling]

Move, move!

[grunts]

Grab my g*n!

[whirring continues]

[g*nf*re]

[glass shatters]

[grunting]

You see anything?

Hold.

♪

Roll! Roll!

[g*nshots]

[exhales]

[g*nsh*t]

r*fle is down. He's on the move.

You watch the exits! I'm going down!

[g*n rattles]

[indistinct conversations]

Hey, hey! Cassandra, anything?

Nothing yet.

Excuse me, excuse me.

Alex, theater entrance. The show is letting out.

[cellphone beeps]

Bob: Hey, uh, Jake, uh, if... if you get this message, listen, you have to hide, okay?

Y-You're in danger.

[screams]

Hey.

Cassandra: Alex, Suarez is on your right.

[people screaming]

Jake, come here.

Come here, this way.

[screams]

Jake: Candace!

[whimpering]

I don't know who you're working for, Alex, but they're not paying you enough.

Let her go, Suarez. This only ends one way.

You sh**t that girl, I will k*ll you.

I don't want to sh**t this girl.

I'm not getting paid to sh**t this girl.

I'm getting paid to sh**t him.

So let me sh**t him, and we all go home.

Hmm?

[whimpering]

You like that plan, right? You like that plan?

She likes that plan, Alex.

I don't like that plan.

Okay, then you sh**t him.

What?

k*ll the boy, drop the g*n, we get a beer.

Nothing personal.

He's just a kid.

This is your choice, Alex.

You decide who dies right now... that thief or this girl.

I hope you're listening to me.

I'm all ears, my friend.

Take the sh*t.

[g*nsh*t]

[screams]

Come here. Get out of here.

Move! Move!

[groans]

It's nothing personal.

[wheezes]

[indistinct conversations]

Who are you?

Your father sent me.

[door opens]

Hop in.

Nice sh*t.

Was, wasn't it?

Six months Royal Marine sn*per training.

Six months with the S.A.S.

So you got it half right.

What was the S.A.S. training for?

Alex, we've discussed this.

I can't give away all my secrets.

[tires squeal]

[door opens]

♪

Jake.

I...

Alex said they never would've found me without you.

[exhales]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Agent Nolan, I thought you were coming by an hour ago.

Did you talk to Chloe Steele?

I did.

Sounds like your boy Justin was definitely into something.

I'm not sure it was terrorism.

I'm going to ask you to do something, Detective, and I need you to trust me.

Say what?

Go to the Decatur and Sunset stop.

Get on the 120 Northbound bus.

Get off at the ninth stop.

Leave your phone at the office.

[cellphone beeps]

[scoffs]

[cellphone beeps]

[drawer shuts]

Well, here we are, at a crossroads.

And this... this is my devil.

My people, they demand compensation.

We want the man who stole from us and this Kane who k*lled Suarez.

We'll let the boy live.

Counter offer.

$2 million to a private Swiss account.

And the details of Suarez's private clients, including some of those who are your enemies.

One in particular was actually in the process of hiring Suarez to k*ll you.

[chuckling] Where's the honor?

So...

Now you're doing me a favor?

The House doesn't do favors.

House does deals.

The game is played, gamblers are paid.

Order is maintained.

Take the envelope.

One of these days, someone's going to call your bluff.

Hmm.

Wow. If my memory serves me correctly, it was in this exact same spot that I think Lucky Luciano said the same thing to one of my predecessors.

Who?

Exactly.

♪

Detective.

Thank you for coming.

A bus ride and three cab changes?

You better tell me something that blows my mind right now.

Every precaution I take is absolutely necessary.

Take a look at these.

Justin Foucault was only the most recent case.

All of these men are ex-special forces...

CIA, NSA, FBI Tactical.

All of them relocated to Las Vegas, and within a few years began behaving strangely.

Disappearing for hours or weeks at a time, and then... pouf... they were gone.

Why are you telling me this?

And don't feed me that crap about picking my name alphabetically off the detective's list.

This isn't an official FBI investigation.

I'm stationed out of D.C., and I need someone here in Vegas who can help me.

I also happen to know you're very close with someone who matches the profile of these men to the letter.

Alex Kane.

[grunts]

[keys rattle]

So, how'd it go?

So, this is everything.

I put the voicemails and voice memos on CDs.

Okay, thanks.

You okay?

Oh, yeah, just tired, you know.

Alex, like, I'm not sure what it is you're looking for, but... I don't think it's in there.

Thanks. I appreciate the help.

[gate creaks, closes]

♪
♪

Machine: September 5th.

[beep]

Ginny: Remember... pears and honey and... frozen yogurt, and... No, okay, that's it.

Machine: September 24th.

Ginny: Got to figure out what that movie is with Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman.

You know, the one where they're... uh, they're in the something, and the longest screen kiss in history?

It's... it's 1945 or 1946.

"Notorious."

Alex loves that movie.

Problems?

No.

He's, uh [chuckles] he's my friend.

I'm lying to him.

Trust me, Mr. McDowell.

You're doing him a favor.

Hey, that stuff you took, like, what... what are you keeping from him?

What's it all mean?

Machine: October 10th.

Ginny: Alex, you have to remember.

Alex has that new client who wants to go to dinner.

I need an outfit for that, and absolutely cannot forget to pick up those shoes...

[grunts]

[sighs]

[crying] There's nothing here.

[sniffles] What am I looking for, Ginny?

[sobs]

Johnson: What's it all mean?

Be careful who you trust.

♪