01x08 - Most Likely to Succeed

[bunniefuu]

Previously
on Briarpatch...

- I'm gonna see you next week
for the reunion?

It's our 20th.

- Raytek planted the story,

threw my sister under the bus,

and then drove that bus
right over her

on her way to city hall.
I wanna know why.

- You ever think
there was a reason

why Felicity
never ask you for help?

- f*ck you.

- The only reason I'm spending

more than a heartbeat here
is to ruin someone's life.

Jake has done
some terrible things.

Terrible, awful,
shocking things.

- And I can prove them all.

- The Senator wants a sit-down
with Clyde Brattle.

- You can't be serious.

- If you think there's value
in me meeting with Spivey,

then I will.

- I'll set it up for tomorrow.

- I heard you got your meeting
for Jake Spivey.

This was the first time
you disobeyed me.

It is also the last.

I will not hesitate
to put you back in.

Permanently.

- The Senator, he's a good man.
He'll listen.

You'll tell him everything?
About Al-Namur?

It's just us now,
and I need you to win.

One meeting, we both get free.

- Police have identified
Lucretia Colder

of the Heights district
as the sole suspect

in last night's
fatal sh**ting.

Colder, the wife

of homicide captain
Eugene Colder,

has been placed
on psychiatric hold

and is awaiting arraignment.

The victim, one Harold Snow
of Texas Avenue,

has been described
as a "spirited creep"

by neighbors.

Speaking of spirit--

- Can we have a do-over?

- Longhorn patriotism
was on full display last night

as Senator Joseph Ramirez
made his case for reelection--

- I want people
to stop dying.

- I'm Ginger Galanti,
and that is all--

- You do realize that'd put me
out of business, right?

Your world is rough.

- Lucretia Colder doesn't have
an alibi.

For either of the bombs.

- Lucretia Colder
can't make a soufflé,

let alone a expl*sive device.

Come on.
- If not her, then who?

Raytek was out of town
for the first one.

Colder...

I mean, he says
he loved Felicity.

- But did she love him back?

- It's never made sense to me.

But he couldn't have planted
the second one.

He was at the station
that night.

- You know, sometimes
the best way to find something

is to stop looking so hard.

You just gotta sit
with what's happening.

Stop rushin'.

- Maybe I'd understand you
better if...

you said it in French.

Fine.

But I still have a job to do.

The Senator has two meetings.

And I have everything riding
on the first one at Jake's.

- What about the other one?

- Well, the Senator is meeting
with a homicidal monster,

so it has to be
someplace secret.

- That's secret,
all right.

Is it set?

- It's about to be.

- You changed your hotel lock.

- You m*rder*d my friend.

- The boss wants
what he wants.

And what he wants now
is a meeting

with your candy-a*s senator.

Tomorrow, 11:00 a.m.

Here.

- It was Harley, by the way.

I prefer to work with my hands.

Come on.

I like it when you flinch.

- Hey.

I know
what you're thinking,

but they use almond flour now,
you know.

Besides,
Duke also needed a treat.

'Cause the clinic laid him off.

Apparently, it's mandatory
to wear gloves now.

What a world.
What a world.

- Excuse me, Barbara Jean.
- Whoo, look who's in a hurry!

Listen, I just wanna tell you

that I did reserve
two tickets for you

even though
you weren't really good

about getting your RSVP back.

Répondez vous, s'il vous plaît.
Right?

The reunion.

It's tonight.

Yeah.
Come on.

I know you've already
picked out a dress.

Little black number, I bet,

Yeah, something transitional.

Funeral to fiesta,
no problem?

- Die in a fire, Barbara Jean.

- My God.

Okay.

She's not getting the discount.

- Outside?

- It's where Spivey wanted
to meet.

- Come on, Cyrus.

Smell the air.

These are Western
Soapberry trees.

This is Texas.

This is where I'm from.

- Hey!

Welcome, gentlemen.
How are you?

Nice to see you.

Now, I know the man

with a taste
for that native dendrology

must be that famous
Senator Ramirez.

Pleasure.
- You must be Mr. Spivey.

- No.
Mr. Spivey was my daddy.

And he died in an industrial
meat grinder.

No, I'm Jake.

Now, Senator, I put aside
a set of whites for you

in the clubhouse
along with some shoes.

Now, it's 12 wide, right?

- That's right.
- All right.

- Spivey appears
to have planned ahead.

- Not bad.

- Well, I did play
on the croquet team at Exeter.

All right, so tell me,

what is it that you're after?

- A lot of American money
went missing

in the Middle East.

- My constituents
deserve to know

where their tax dollars
went.

- Money gets misspent
all the time.

You know what I'm saying?

Hey, one time,

I paid 10 grand
for a leopard coat

only to find out

it was actually
a tiny coat for a leopard.

Heck.

What do you say,
you want a beer?

- I'd love one.

The tamale spot.

- There's a small apartment
in the back upstairs.


Brattle is confirmed.

- Good to see you
back on the ball, Allegra Dill.

- Well, Allegra tells me
you're a real good guy.

- But between us now,

this here ain't politics.

- It's marketin'!

And now look, Clyde,

he can give you a whole bunch
of receipts

that'll be sure to get
the Wall Street types

all hot and bothered, but...

I can give you something

that'll get Joe Popcorn
crying in his cornflakes.

You ever hear of Al-Namur?

- Should I have?

- Back in 2012,

our outfit was contracted
to arm rebels

in and around Aleppo.

- We weren't officially
in Syria in 2012.

- Yeah.
Yeah.

I wasn't officially
in Julie Congdon

back in tenth grade either,

but that didn't stop me
from telling everyone

I wasn't no virgin no more.

Anyhoo, this is
the sort of thing we'd done

a thousand times previous.

You get in, you get out,

you preserve government
deniability

and maybe, you know,

skim a little bit
off the top for our troubles.

And you should've seen
these rebels.

Boy, I'm telling you,
they're just a bunch

of Chechen dirtbags

slamming sh*t vodka and...

watching VHS tapes
of bum fights till dawn.

- I don't see how this helps--

- One night,
right before Aleppo fell,

I get word that these rebels

are actually secret jihadis

planning on turning our weapons
against our allies.

Only had a few hours to try
and get the weapons back.

It took all night.

I remember the guy
with the VHS tapes

had a mole right here on...

Right here
on the back of his head.

I stared at it when I--

- When you what?

- Look, what matters is

they weren't jihadis, Senator.

It was all a setup.

All so a guy like Clyde,
who's already rich,

could just get
a little bit richer.

You understand?

This here is a story.

One that people need to hear.

And one that people
can understand.

So you give me immunity

and a Bible to put my hand on,

and I swear to Sam Houston

you're White House bound.

- He's chatty.

Your friend.

- Always has been.

- Not sure the game
is going his way.

- Cyrus mentioned something
to me about...

About mass graves?

- Well, I'm not proud

of what I did that day.

But Clyde's the one
we should be focusing on.

- So it was Brattle
who did the k*lling.

- Brattle never did anything
directly.

- Well, what do you mean
"directly"?

- Men like Clyde don't pull
the trigger themselves.

- They just give the orders?

- Yeah.
Well--

Well, what?

- I mean, he messes with you,
you know?

He makes you understand
what he wants

before he actually
has to say it.

But Joe, hey, you know,
here's the thing--

- Mr. Spivey,
correct me if I'm wrong

but it sounds to me

like you just confessed
to a m*ssacre.

- What?
No!

- Women, children...
- No.

I don't know anything
about the women and kids, okay?

Now look, I only did what I--

Christ.

All right, hey, look,

you want something
a little less messy?

Yemen.

I mean,
there is a whole bunch of sh*t

that went down in Yemen
that nobody knows about.

Yeah, I'd say probably 2...

and I'm a little bit fuzzy
on the year, but...

- Let's go.

Jesus Christ, Allegra.

I can't put that guy
on television.

Voters--they want a tax break,
not a horror story.

- Give us a chance to--
- Us?

What is "us"?

We are the ones you work for,
Allegra,

and we will see you tomorrow
morning for the Brattle meeting

and that is the end of it.

- Senator--
- You did good, kid.

I can see why you like him.

Let's wrap this up.

I miss D.C.

- Gene.

Are you living in here?

- I can't go home.

My house is a crime scene.

An emotional crime scene.

- Gene, can I give you
some advice?

- I tried drinking diet.
I just don't like the taste.

- Your fiancée's dead,

your mentor blew up
two days later,

and now your wife
is up at County

waiting to be arraigned
on capital m*rder.

The last place you oughta be
is at work.

- I need my job.

- You need sleep.

Can't investigate this, Gene.
You're too close.

To all of it.

Look,
I could put you on leave,

but I'm just gonna
put you to bed.

Go on and hit the bunks, baby.

Get a little sleep.

- Thank you.

- Go on.

I'll get Mock to check on you
in a couple hours.

Another g*dd*mn mess.

I mean--

- Damn it!
God damn it!

- That won't help.

That slick son of a b*tch
set me up.

And for what,
so I could take the fall

for Clyde f*cking Brattle?

God damn it.

- What now?

- I got shot, remember?

- You're not the only one
who got screwed here.

Cyrus owns me.

He's the one who got me
out of jail 12 years ago.

I make one wrong move,

I go back in.

- Well, sh*t.

- I won't let them
choose Brattle.

Not after what he did to Lalo.

And to you.

Even if this ruins me.

I can't.

Maybe we'll have cells
near each other.

- Ha. How is it I get rich
and you get fancy

and 20 years later,
we're still here...

getting f*cked
by these blue bloods

who only take the silver spoons
out their mouths

just long enough to gobble up
our whole g*dd*mn lives?

No.

You know what?
It's our turn.

Let's finish this.

- Don't joke.

- No, there ain't nothing funny
about what I'm proposing.

I'm saying you and I
are gonna catch Clyde Brattle.

Tonight.

What?

He's in town.

You said it yourself
he likes to mess with me,

so let's mess right back.

Whoever controls Clyde...

they control
the whole situation.

- You, me, and what army?

- Well, let me make a call.

- About time you
brung her up to speed.

She'll warm up.

I'm sorry about that article.

That case was messy.

And it needed tidying.

- Look, I came to this town
'cause I wanted a challenge,

but even I was thrown
by the venality on display.

I mean, the mayor is a clown,

he works for vampires,
and that dope in there

sucking down beers
like a sump pump,

well, him I could work with.
- I bet.

- He really wants
to change things,

and so do I.

So a couple years back,
we hatched ourselves a plan.

He'd buy up as much
of Packingtown as he could.

I'd run for mayor.
Grant him the zoning rights

to make something worthwhile
out of it all.

- He can't develop anything.

Not unless he gets immunity.

- So we added
a few beats to the plan.

I'd help him get Brattle,

speed things along for when
people like you showed up.

- Catching Brattle would make
an awfully good headline.

- For what I hear,
it'd be good for the world.

- And Felicity?

- Your sister
was precious to me.

Her death is on my conscience.

But it's not on my hands.

You help us collar Brattle
tonight,

I'll make sure the world knows

what kind of cop
your sister really was.

You're angry?

Yeah, I used to be like you.

The thing about anger is
it gives your power over

to the person you're angry at.

So I don't get angry anymore.
I get results.

- You know
I'll never trust you.

- Honey, I don't even know
if I like you.

But that don't mean
we gals can't get sh*t done.

If your senator's meeting
with Brattle tomorrow morning,

then this has to happen
tonight.

- Agreed.

The only problem is

no one can get in touch
with Brattle directly.

What?

- Tell her.

- You've had this
the whole time.

- I try not to think about it.

It ain't healthy, me and Clyde.

Not a lot of guys
get away from him

and that's 'cause most of 'em
don't really wanna leave.

- You sure you're up to this?

All right, well, good.

He's got two g*ons left,

so I can bring in
a man I trust.

Our four to his three,

but I'm still gonna need you
as the bait.

- I'll be in your ear.

- Never left, darling.

- All that's left to decide
is where.

- Well,
it's gonna have to be public.

Otherwise, he won't show.
- Agreed.

Somewhere cops don't look
out of place.

- Clyde likes spectacle,
so we can't forget that.

So it's gonna have to be
a party or...

- No.
- Yes!

- No.

No!
- It's too perfect.

- What?

I should've shot you myself.

I hate you.

- And you're sure he's coming?

- To the science room.
That's what the message said.

And I bet you 200 bucks

that Robbie Deck got fat.

"Most likely to succeed,"
my a*s.

Well, how about some drinks?

- How about a cyanide pill?

- Hey.
What's up?

- You know,
something's been bugging me

about the two bombs,

so I'm doing some digging.

Maybe you're rubbing off
on me.

- Sounds messy.

- Is that dance pop?
Where you at?

- I'm at my...



- Socializin'.

Who's rubbing off on who?

- Nobody's rubbing anything.

Call me later.

- I'm gonna lose
my security deposit, aren't I?

- Say...

I was right.

Robbie Deck?

Pfffttt.

- Can't you be serious?

- Come on.
This is serious.

The hell else do you think
I moved back here

if not to rub everybody's noses
in how freaking cool I am?

- Here.

Put this in.

We'll have a line to each other
and one to Raytek outside.

- Copy that, Kemosabe.

Brattle will be
in the science room at 10:00.

- I'll cover
the front entrance.

Raytek and her man
will neutralize Harley and Sid.

When you say the word,

I'll have her take the room.

It's not a great plan.

- Well, it don't have to be.
It just has to work.

Well, we got a couple hours,
so...

Probably don't wanna dance,
though, do you?

- I don't like it.

I said I don't like it.

- What don't you like,
Sidney?

- It's been seven years
since Spivey crossed you

and here we are
running back to him

like he's a baby
in a burning building.

- Don't dabble in metaphor,
Sidney.

It's not your strong suit.

- It's just--I thought he had
your mark on him.

Not the other way around.

Boss.

Boss.

- Enough, Sidney.

Signal the boy,
if you must.

- We're out of soda.

How is anyone supposed
to function without caffeine?

- Yeah, sorry, Captain.

The grocery runs have become
grocery walks around here,

what with the explosions
and such.

You can always go down
to the supply closet.

- sh*t.

Hey.
Hey!

Mock.

- Open the door.
Come on.

Mock, this isn't funny.

Yeah?

God damn it, Mock!

- I tell you,
I'm not one for regrets,

but...

I feel one coming on.

Well, just that I spent
all those years

inches from the coolest,
meanest,

most interesting person
I'd ever met

and I never once
tried to kiss her.

- I'd have
ripped your head off.

What a way to go.

- I got the bleach.

Can you get under
the coffee table?

- Yeah.

Cindy, I'm so sorry

about the loss of your...

what was he, your boyfriend?

- Laigika pariksaka.

Means "sexual explorer"
in San-skirt.

It's a language.

- Right.

I know he provided
all kind of services to people.

Did any of those services
happen to be...

I don't know,

expl*sive?

- Are you asking
if Harold was a b*mber?

- Come on, girl.
No.

Absolutely not.
- Okay.

- I know he was not a b*mber.

Maybe he facilitated
for somebody.

Like Ms. Colder perhaps.

- You take that sponge,
and you scrub that thought

right out of your damn mind,
Mr. Singe.

Everybody in this town
wanted something done.

Something
they were ashamed of.

Hal just gave them
what they asked for.

You know, there have been
three murders here

in one week?
I mean...

this place has got
highly toxic vibes.

I've smudged with sage, like,
half a dozen times,

but my clothes still smell
like tar

from that stupid b*mb.

- Tar?

I don't remember that b*mb
smelling like tar.

- The first one.

The one that k*lled
the landlady.

This is what I was wearing
when it--

You know?

Smell it.

Yeah.

That's tar.

- sh*t.

That is tar.

- King Tutankhamun was buried

with 300 clay servants...
- What is this?

- Shh!
- Meant to reanimate

in the next world,

not unlike our gig economy
robber barons...

- Come on.
Who listens to this sh*t?

- I do.
- Workers to toil eternally.

- Turn this crap off.

- You think it's crap?

Show me the lie.

- Debate me, coward.

Come on.

- License and registration.

- Shut your mouth
if you wanna keep your teeth.

- They gave me my clothes back
at the hospital.

They didn't smell
anything like tar.

- Yeah, that's odd, right?

- Yeah.

- So how's the reunion going?

Don't ask.

Pick me up after?
We should talk through this.

- A'ight.

- Is this damn thing working?

Allegra, you hearing me?

- Yes, I can hear you.

- All targets neutralized
out here.

No sign of El Jefe.

- Then he's on his way to us.

- I thought about
getting into frackin'.

I mean, I sure as sh*t
know about shale.

Say, any of y'all own
exotic animals?

- Hey.
Can we talk?

- Yeah, sure thing.

'Scuse me, fellas.

- Why would one b*mb
smell different than another?

- It's almost go-time.
What are you doing?

- Do you know of a b*mb
that smells like tar?

- C4?
- Okay.

And one that smells
like nothing?

- I mean, Semtex maybe,

but it'd have to be
the old stuff

before they added
a scent to it.

- Why would one person
use two different bombs?

- I don't know.
He wouldn't.

What are you getting at?
- Testin', testin'!

Howdy, y'all.

I said howdy, y'all!

- Okay...

Duke?

It's good to see
the class of '99

looking 90-fine.

After this slow dance,

we're gonna be serving
whoopie pies

in the weight room.

- All right.

It's Clyde o'clock.
How do I look?

- Stay calm.
Okay?

- He doesn't own you anymore.

- Yeah.
I know.

I know.

Hey.

- I'm right here.

- Go.

- Jake, what's your 20?

- I'm approaching
the science room.

All clear so far.
- All right, standing by.

- What the hell?

I'm in the science room.
Brattle's not here.

- His van's on site.
I arrested his men.

Where the hell is he?

- sh*t.

He's at the party.

By the punch bowl.

- Jake.

- Don't let him get to you.

- You got old.

- You got fat.

- Your girlfriend's listening?

- I want you to understand me,
Ms. Dill.

If you try to enter,

everyone in this room

will die.

- Now, let's you and I
have a real talk.

- I'm headed in.

- Shh.

- Mock didn't deserve that,
Gene.

- I didn't wanna k*ll him.

Just like I didn't wanna crawl

through a rat sh*t filled
air conditioning vent,

but he locked me
in a f*cking soda closet.

- I know what you are, Gene.
I've known for months now.

- I'm a good cop.

- Please.

You're a contract k*ller.

And you're not even good
at that.

- This was supposed
to be simple

but you couldn't leave it
alone, you miserable n--

Damn it, Gene.

- God, I'm gonna
f*cking k*ll you!

- Cut it out!

sh*t. sh*t!

- sh*t.

- The suspense, Jacob.

It's k*lling me.

- I don't trust that senator.

I don't think we should be
negotiating against each other.

We should be trying
to figure this.

You know?
For the both of us.

- That's sweet.

And maybe we can play
a game of catch

in your yard after.

You told him.

About Al-Namur.

I knew you would.

- Ooh, hello.
Hello.

- How'd he take it?

Badly, I assume.

Your version lacks
a hero narrative,

which should
teach you something

I thought you learned
a long time ago.

You're not the hero.

You have never taken
responsibility

for the terrible things
you did.

- Things you made me do.

- Jake.

What are you doing here

in this pathetic little town?

And you're retired?

Sad.

It makes me sad.

I heard what you did
to my Anatol at your mansion.

Clubbed him into abstraction.

That's because you are
a beautiful weapon, Jacob.

A fist.

- Stop it.

- I've had someone planted
in this town

for more than a year

and he hasn't been able
to lay a finger on you.

None of my boys make up
even one half

of Jacob Spivey.

- Raytek.

Brattle has an inside man.

What's going on?

sh*t.

All right, I'm coming to you.

- Well, look, Clyde,
if you're gonna k*ll me,

just go on
and get it over with.

'Cause at least then,

I won't have to listen
to your jabber anymore.

- k*ll you?

I'm here to destroy you.

You crossed me, Jacob.

So I've taken your money,
I've taken your men,

and I have rid you
of the notion

that you, Jacob Spivey,

could ever be a good person.

So now, all that's left...

Is for you to come with me.

- Well, that's mighty kind
of you, Clyde.

But all things being equal,

I think I'd rather go
to prison.

- Jake.

Things were never equal.

- Colder.

- Allegra.
Wow, are you okay?

Do you need help?

- Where's Raytek?

- I don't know.

- Did you just get here?

- I heard the expl*si*n.

Crowd trampled right into me
like cattle.

I think they broke my nose.

- You're always where
the action is, aren't you?

- I'm police, Allegra.
It's my job.

- You smell like tar.

That expl*si*n.

That was you, wasn't it?

- What are you saying?

- You work for Clyde Brattle.

You're the inside man.

Come on.

- Felicity didn't love you.

She was investigating you.

You found out

and you blew her up.

- Please.
You know I have an alibi.

- For the second b*mb.

For Strucker.

But you didn't blow up
Strucker.

It was a second b*mber.

- You don't know
what you're talking about.

- Felicity's boyfriend
did k*ll her.

And it was you.

- sh*t.