02x05 - Burial

[bunniefuu]

- Previously on Reacher...
- Well, whatever your friends

were involved in was big enough
to get them k*lled.

There's no way

the Tony Swan I recruited
is a part of this.

Seems Swan's title was
assistant director of security.

"Shane Langston. Director of Security".

Maybe he's the guy I got
on the phone in Atlantic City.

We need to talk to Malcolm Lavoy.

We'll never get close
enough to a senator

to find out what he may or may not know.

Oh, we don't need to.

Daniel Boyd, Senator Lavoy's

legislative director.

Little Wing can knock
anything out of the sky.

New Age has two bases.

Software made in New York,

hardware at a manufacturing
plant in Denver.

What are our directives?

You and Dixon go to Denver.

O'Donnell and I will head down to D.C.

Want to swing by Homeland,
see what they know about A.M.

Saddle up...

... 'cause we're about to do
a whole lot of cowboy sh*t.

Quit it!

I'm gonna get you!

- No, you're not.
- Don't drop my teddy ever again

or I will... at your face.

Stop it!

Ooh.

- You got the EpiPens?
- Yes, of course.

- And woobie?
- Woobie, Panda-pal,

Lindsay the Monkey, they're all packed.

Grab the burner phone.

No contact with anyone.
Not your parents,

and definitely not your sister.

She puts everything on Facebook.

- I know the drill.
- Go to Asheville.

Take the boys. Plenty
for you to do there.

It's touristy. You'll blend in.

Use cash and this
pay-as-you-go credit card.

Scale of one to ten, how bad is this?

They're not gonna come after you.

We're just playing it safe.
Belts and suspenders.

One to ten.

For you guys? Four, tops.

How about you?

Well, we're dealing with
some pretty bad guys, but...

I got the g*ng with me. We'll be fine.

It'll be over in a couple
of days, promise.

I got to get the baby ready.

Give my tie back!

- I need...
- She doesn't panic.

Accepts reality on reality's terms.

Daughter of an ER nurse,
Chicago fire chief.

- Tough as they come.
- Beautiful, tough, smart.

She lose a bet?

... dinner. That's what I'm making.

If someone asked me back in the day

where I thought you'd wind up,

I'd have predicted
a slow death from gonorrhea

and a half dozen girlfriends
fighting over an '04 Miata.

Yeah, well, turns out I didn't want

every girl in the world,
just the right one.

Neagley and Dixon just
got to the Denver plant.

Good. Maybe they get ahold
of those missiles

and your family won't
have to be gone long.

Whoa.

You're a slowpoke.

Okay.

A few days wouldn't hurt.

You'll never get me.

I will.

The DCMA was here a month ago.

Yeah, and now we're back.

We're the cold sores
of government oversight.

Now, if you please? Your foreman?

Wait here.

Never ceases to amaze me
how far you can get into a place

if you just act like you're
supposed to be there

and carry a clipboard.

Mm-hmm.

How you feeling?

Sore.

Well, fighting in heels
takes some getting used to.

Walking in heels takes
some getting used to.

Never wore 'em.

- You never wore heels?
- Nope.

- Not even to a school dance?
- Never went to one.

When I wasn't studying or taking
care of my dad, I had to work.

Well, bad music, warm punch
and some clammy hands

feeling you up...

you didn't miss much.

Nobody told me about this.

Wouldn't be a surprise
inspection if we called ahead.

Uncle Sam wants to make sure
you're using his money wisely.

So we're here to take a look

at Little Wing shoulder-fired
launchers and missiles.

The specs, the manufacturing protocols,

the order and delivery schedules...

Delivery schedule?

Ten minutes ago. That's
the delivery schedule.

The whole lot just went out the door.

All 650 of them.

- 650?
- Here's the paperwork.

If someone had called me first,
I'd have held them for you.

- sh*t.
- Yeah.

Hey, there. You need
an extra set of hands?

What I need

is your truck.

We're in business.

Give me good news.

GPS tracker did the job.

Your associates at New Age came through.

They might be upset
I k*lled the driver, though.

Oh, they won't care
so long as they get paid.

Never underestimate the power of greed.

Switch the trailers and get on the road.

Will do. Meet you in New York.

This name, right here...

... Azhari Mahmoud.

So, the Aaron Miklos
we were chasing down in Denver,

that was Mahmoud?

Yeah, we've been calling him "A.M".

Guy's smart. Never
been caught, no photos.

Hell, we're not even sure
what nationality he is.

From the little bit we know of him,

he can supposedly pass
for Central American,

Italian, Greek, Middle Eastern.

He's a ghost.

We have three short,
innocuous recordings of him.

Audio forensics matched it
as the same guy.

Each time, he's using
a different identity.

Ideology?

No political or religious affiliations.

His only god is money,

and he works for the highest bidder.

He hooks up bad actors with the tools

they need for bad actions.

First popped up on our radar
six years ago.

t*rror1st cell caught
trying to acquire tanks

of experimental nerve gas.

We scooped up the whole lot.

All of them except Mahmoud.

Or whatever his name is.

Ghost.

This buy was supposed to happen
with bearer bonds.

Yeah, financial instrument
of choice for tax evaders,

money launderers and
other assorted assholes.

The U.S. Treasury stopped
issuing those in the '80s.

Some countries still use them.
Those were from Luxembourg.

Someone as cautious as A.M.
would use bearer bonds.

If issued in large enough amounts,

you can carry an untraceable
fortune in a briefcase.

- 65 million worth.
- That's the problem.

You hold a bearer bond,
that's like carrying

a million dollar bill.

The bearer owns it.

So no way A.M. lets anyone
deliver payment but him.

That's where he's vulnerable.

Just like your brother.

Back when we worked the case,
I asked Joe

some questions
of the financial side of things.

He said same thing you just did.

A.M. will be the delivery boy.
No one else.

Okay.

We showed you ours. Now it's your turn.

We're still piecing it
together, but, uh...

we give you our word,
when this bird's cooked,

- we'll reach out.
- And you have my word

we won't let this guy slip
through our fingers again.

A.M. and everyone working with him

will be prosecuted to
the fullest extent of the law.

Unless we k*ll them all first.

Thanks, guys.

Just like his brother.


on these roads.

We've got a decent sh*t
at catching them.

Yeah, especially if they come to a stop.

Who are these guys?

They're the guys who are gonna tell us

the truck broke down
and they had to call

another one to come pick up the trailer.

But no way a second truck
got here before us.

- No.
- This is a hijacking.

Any chance you're wrong?

I'm not wrong!

How the f*ck did they know who we are?

Foreman must've called New Age
about two government inspectors.

Langston finds out and
calls these dickheads.

The f*ck?

Ah!

- I think we got him.
- Yeah.

Also looks like we got
a front tire and gas t*nk.

- We're not getting out of here.
- No.

- I'll call the cops.
- Make it anonymous.

Copy that. Do me a favor,
grab the manifest.

We need the license plate off of it.

Oh, sh*t.

What's up, Neagley?

Hell of a lot, actually.
We got to talk fast,

because cops are on the way
to a body count

and we got to put some distance
between us and them.

Anything to put you at the scene?

Rental car. It was sh*t to hell,

but it was rented with Dixon's fake ID.

We torched it to get rid
of prints and DNA.

Good. So what happened out there?

- You want the bad news or the worse news?
- Surprise us.

Well, a New Age truck with all


I hope that's the worse news.

You wish. Tony Swan's alive.

- So that's a good thing.
- No.

It looks like Swan's still
working with New Age.

According to the bill of lading,

Swan personally signed off
on the shipment

- before it left the factory.
- So he's in Denver?

No, the paperwork said
he authorized it from New York.

So they forged his signature.

- It's a digital thumbprint.
- Then they forced him.

New Age New York has
iris scanners on the doors,

thumbprint locks on the computers.

There's no way that anyone
could force Tony Swan

through that maze of biometrics
without causing a huge scene.

The only way they wouldn't
worry about a ruckus

is if all thousand-plus employees

were in on this thing,

and the odds of a conspiracy

- that vast are...
- Minimal.

I know you want to believe
Swan's clean, boss, we all do,

but things look the way they look.

Talk when we're safe, okay?

Reacher?

Copy that.

So what you said
about k*lling them all...

... that include Tony Swan?

I'm going for a walk.

You boys won't be needing these.

Yeah, we're all friends here.

Took their g*ns.

Long as they didn't find
the wire Swan's wearing,

we're five by five.

Like that miscreant said,
"We're all friends here".

Let's see what you got, G.I. Joe.

G.I. Joe? More like Mighty Joe Young.

How'd you like to be jammed
into a foxhole

with this giant m*therf*cker?

We'll b*at whatever
price you're paying now.

Our supplier can get you
all the H you can move

from an overseas source

that's in no position
to negotiate terms.

We pass the savings on to you.

Okay.

- Let's talk money.
- Soon as they agree to a deal, we go.

Bust them, lean on them,

they give up their source; we bust them,

then we all get bumped.

More fruit salad on our chests...

More dollar signs on our paychecks, bro.

Why would they add dollar signs
to our paychecks?

- Shut up, Franzy.
- The kid's got a point, Manuel.

You only need one dollar sign.

- Assholes.
- Heads up.

We got incoming.

About time.



You said you could b*at
our current price.

- I am b*ating it.
- Not by enough.

You want us to change
suppliers, motivate us.

This is chicken. I said pork.

- You heard me order it.
- Okay.

f*cking idiots always get it wrong.

How's 105?

Sounds like you're wasting
my f*cking time.

- You got forks?
- You have another brick

- as pure as that for 105?
- Seen better.

Bullshit. I got a list of other buyers

- a mile long. I came to you...
- I know you.

... because you purchase at a volume,

- which makes it worthwhile.
- I don't think so.

Yeah, I do. Where do I know you from?

- Uh-oh.
- Hold on.

- Might be nothing.
- No idea.

- Look, I have other offers coming in.
- I know we've met before.

What can you do for me?



I got it. You're the guy I sold
my guitar to a while back.

You got me mixed up with somebody else.

Craigslist, dude.

You bought my acoustic.

We gonna eat and discuss old times

or are we gonna make a deal?

You assholes don't want this stuff,

we got other places we can sell it.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute, when this guy bought it,

he was in an Army cop uniform.

f*ck.

Go, go, go, go.

Look out!

Don't sh**t!

- Call an ambulance!
- Don't sh**t!

We have an officer down.

- We need medical assistance.
- The b*llet missed your heart.

But shattered my collarbone.

Not gonna be playing
that guitar for a while.

- Every cloud...
- f*ck you.

- Hey, who don't you mess with?
- The Teamsters?

I owe you one.

Let me guess.

Government plates, government suits,

government rides.

Surprised it took
Senator Lavoy this long

to figure out who sweated
his flunky last night.

The senator has a proposition
for you. Get in.

No.

- Why not, Mr. Reacher?
- Just "Reacher".

Fine, Reacher. Why
won't you get in the car?

Because he didn't ask nicely.

Okay.

Hart, what's the magic word?

Please get in the vehicle?

My man in Denver barely
got away with the merchandise.

I'm paying a premium
for a seamless transaction,

and so far this has been
anything but seamless.

If these problems persist,

there may have to be a price adjustment.

Some of Mr. Swan's old friends
are causing us problems,

but it's nothing we can't handle.

If you want the merchandise,
you honor the deal.

Do what you promised and I will.

Okay. Good.

Where are you now?

I am just outside...

Oh, no, t-this can't be right.

"French Lick"?

- f*cking Americans.
- Indiana.

Okay.

The Little Wing chips
will be ready to install

in the missiles
by the time you get here.

And Mr. Swan's associates
will be taken care of.

That plan's already in motion.

f*ck your king. Prick.

Backstage at the primate exhibit?

Dramatic.

Thought you might feel
comfortable among the gorillas.

Mr. Reacher, I'm Malcolm Lavoy.

- He prefers just "Reacher".
- No.

He has to call me "Mister".

My apologies for the manner in which

you were brought in here, Mr. Reacher.

Assume you use this location
'cause it's one

of the few spots in D.C.
where you can meet

without prying eyes
or surveillance bugs.

Mm-hmm. It's why I got myself
appointed to the zoo's board.

Ah, I believe you know

my legislative director, Mr. Boyd.

Yeah, he's the one who likes cocaine.

You know, when I found
out what happened,

I reached out to a friend
of mine at the Bureau.

Imagine Boyd's embarrassment
when he learned

that the people
he revealed our secrets to

weren't FBI agents in the first place.

Security video showed you
entering the precinct

and facial recognition software
matched you to a m*llitary ID.

Jack Reacher. No middle name.

West Point, two Silver Stars,

a Bronze Star, Purple Heart and so on.

Show some respect.

That is quite a list,
and I want to thank you

for your service, by the way.

Seems like after you retired,

you kind of fell off
the face of the Earth.

Except for this incident
a couple years ago

in Margrave, Georgia.

Charged with the m*rder
of your own brother.

You were, of course, exonerated.

Then a massive counterfeiting operation

that Joe had been investigating

literally and figuratively
b*rned to the ground.

Now, the official story was

that it was all the work of a rookie cop

and an out-of-town veteran.

The same out-of-town veteran

that arrested Boyd here in Boston.

Get to the point.

Smells like monkey sh*t in here.

Well, I know it was you
in Margrave, Mr. Reacher.

I want you to do the same thing
for the situation we have here.

- Why?
- Because in Boston, you insinuated to Boyd

that m*llitary and civilian aircraft

could be in danger due to Little Wing.

Now, I can only assume
that means that t*rrorists

are interested in the tech,
working hard to obtain it.

See, once we identified you,
we looked into things deeper

and we learned that your
old unit's back together,

and some are dead.

Don't look so shocked, Mr. Reacher,

I'm a U.S. congressman,
I get things done.

I'm shocked because a U.S.
congressman got anything done.

I'm used to the slings
and arrows, Mr. Reacher.

But bottom line,

the people who want this weaponry

can never be allowed to have it.

Because if anyone knew

you were involved in the shady dealings

that created Little Wing
in the first place,

you'd be indicted.

Get rid of the bad guys,
keep my hands clean.

In Washington, we call that a win-win.

I did what I did to give
our side the tools they need

to defend democracy.

I just avoided the typical
red tape that does nothing

but cause the delays that cost lives.

And lined your pockets in the process.

Again, win-win.

But I don't want innocent people
to die because of it.

I'm a political animal,
I'm not a monster, Mr. Reacher.

And I'm not asking for your help,

I'm offering you mine.

You're the kind of man who likes
to gets things done, too.

Your record in the m*llitary,
and in Margrave, proves that.

You like to upset the apple cart.

Well, I'm prepared to give you
whatever you need

to aid you in that endeavor.

And when you're done,

no one will be able to prove
that you were ever near

those apples in the first place.

Just smash this thing to bits.
Leave no man left standing.

No one left to endanger lives.

And then you can disappear again.

No one will go looking for you.

Or your friends.

Yeah?

Hey, Not-So-Jolly Green Giant.

- You throw away that suit yet?
- No. Why?

Coroner finally released Franz's body.

Funeral's tomorrow.

We got to go back to New York.

Had my office make
some discrete inquiries.

Denver sheriffs found the sh*t-up truck

with a switched-out trailer.

Nothing in it but crates of bricks.

Guessing they perfectly
matched the weight

of the launchers and the missiles.

Yep. It seems their plan

was to drive the dummy cargo
down to the port

- in L.A.
- And ship it to an Army base

in the Philippines or wherever
the weapons were supposed to go.

South Korea, according
to the documents we saw.

Smart.

Three to four weeks for
a cargo ship to get there

from the West Coast, no one
knows the weapons were missing

till they open it up on the other end.

And who knows how long that could be?

Army could just load it into storage

and not see them again for months.

And by then, it's too late.

t*rrorists have taken down
dozens of planes

and we have no idea
where they got the firepower.

Speaking of firepower, we have any leads

as to where the real missiles went?

Colorado State Police found the truck

in a field outside Denver.

- It was empty.
- Based on the tracks in the dirt,

they think a private plane
flew the weapons out overnight.

Could be headed here.

Since 9/11, they've kept
a pretty close watch

on New York's skies.

And we know A.M.'s cautious.

I were him, I'd fly them
into some small airstrip

in Pennsylvania, maybe New Hampshire,

then drive the weapons
into New York to load them up

- with the Little Wing software.
- That makes sense.

We need to know exactly
where the missiles are headed

so we can intercept them.

'Cause when the money changes hands,

A.M. will be there, and so will
the people who k*lled our guys.

Reacher. You seeing this sh*t?

Isn't that that toy he had
in his car the other day?

Mikey.

My nephews have the same one.

It's a great toy.

We play with it all the time.

When I was a kid, I had Aquaman.

I thought it was so cool
how he could talk to fish.

'Cause I wanted to talk
to my dog, you know?

Hey.

I want you to have this, too.

This was mine. Saint Jerome.

He's the patron saint of kids

whose moms and dads go to heaven.

I want you to say the prayer...

... on the back,

every night.

It'll help keep your dad close.

Can you do that?

Good boy.

Good boy.

You need anything, you call me.

Day or night.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

Come on, Mikey.
They're just about to start.

Why are you giving toys
to my dead friend's son?

Excuse me?

Cozy up to the kid,
score points with Mom.

You see a grieving widow
and think, "Easy target"?

Are you kidding me right now?

You got some kind of death wish?

- Some people think so.
- I'm here to pay my respects.

Why did a biker g*ng take a run
at me in Boston last night?

- 'Cause you're an assh*le.
- Possibly.

Or maybe it's 'cause
you're the only person I told

- we were going there.
- Wait, wait, wait.

Are you trying to say that I'm bent?

Not trying to say anything.

You know why I was talking to Mikey?

Because I know what he's going through.

I know what it is to look out
the window every night

and pray that the next set of headlights

coming down the street
is your father's car,

even though you know it'll never happen,

because you saw the guys
from Romano's funeral home

throw dirt on his casket.

Do you know what it is to lose family?

Yeah, they're all dead.
Every one of them.

And I was talking about you,
not your father.

I'm talking about him.

My father was a cop, a good one,

and he refused to be on the take
and they k*lled him for it.

Look, I know that's your
friend's son and widow.

I get it.

But you call me dirty one more time,

and I don't care if we're standing

in front of the statue
of the Holy Mother,

I will give you that b*ating
that I owe you right here.

One, I'll take that fight
any time you want.

And two...

I didn't know that about your father.

Yeah, well, what you don't know
could fill the Javits.

Because while you were in Boston
doing God knows what,

I was running those security
names from New Age.

All former NYPD,
all from the 3rd precinct.

The boss, Langston and a few other guys,

they were under investigation by IA.

They took early retirement
and the charges went away.

Then they all got cushy jobs at New Age,

and they hired all their pals along.

Whole team of bad cops?

Everybody except your buddy Swan.

But he's the only one
that has m*llitary experience

to know what type of weapons
t*rrorists want, so...

Now you're implying something
that's pissing me off.

You can't deny he makes sense for this.

With his background, for all we know,

he might have put
the whole thing together.

All cops, all bad,
all from the same precinct.

- You interview any of them?
- Couldn't.

You turned their office
into a drive-through.

They went to the ground.

Their places were empty,
just like Tony Swan's.

You want to call somebody dirty?

First look in your own backyard.

We therefore commit our brother
Calvin Franz to the ground,

earth to earth,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust,

in sure and certain hope
of the resurrection

to the eternal life.

Amen.

f*ring party, attention.

Stand by.

Ready.

Aim.

Fire.

Ready.

Aim.

Fire.

- Get down!
- Fire...

I got you. Come on. Let's go.

Get out of here. Go.

Active sh**t! Run!

How many?

As far as I can tell, two.
Across the road.

Handguns are useless from this
distance. We got to get closer.

Flank them. Neagley and I will
take the one on the right.

You two take the one on the left.

Go.

Close as we're gonna get.
It's not enough.

- We could wait for the cops.
- We can't let them get away.

As soon as they hear sirens,
they scatter.

All right.

I'll draw their fire, you take them out.

- Negative.
- You can do this.

- You're a great sh*t.
- But you're a slow runner.

f*ck this.

Get in!

So, you trust me now,
or are you just desperate?

I saw you protect Angela and Mikey,

so I guess you're playing it square.

You got a rat in your house,
though, that's for sure.

sh*t, Russo,
it's the pedal on the right.

Let me do my job.

- Cut the corner.
- There's a curb.

- Jump the curb!
- Will you climb out of my ass?

I thought this was supposed
to be a high-speed pursuit.

You're losing our best lead.

You want to drive?

- Yes.
- Hey, hey.

You're a f*cking menace, you know that?

You drive like you're blind.

Don't sh**t. I'm done.

Okay? I'm done.

You're under arrest, assh*le.

No.

These guys took a run at us
in broad daylight

at a crowded funeral.

They're getting desperate.

Means this thing's
coming to a head fast.

We take him in, he lawyers up

and doesn't talk until it's too late

and a t*rror1st has 650 chances

to take down a commercial airliner.

So, what do you want me to do?

Look the other way.

Oh, come on, man.

By not telling me everything you know,

you're protecting the people
who k*lled my friends.

I'm not gonna waste my time

with enhanced interrogation techniques.

I'm just gonna squeeze
the life out of you.

So, if at any point before you die

you feel like fully
unburdening yourself...

blink.

- Talk, now.
- Okay.

Okay. Christ.

Let me catch my breath.

We were supposed to use the g*nf*re

from the 21-g*n salute to mask our sh*t.

Take you and your team down
and get out of there

before anyone knew what was going on.

Easy payday for a couple
professional hitters.

- Tell me something I don't know.
- Like what?

Langston wouldn't give you
all the cash up front.

Where are you supposed to meet him

to get the rest of the money?

An abandoned building

in some shitty neighborhood in Queens.

Look, I-I can take you there.

But I don't know any Langston.

Then who hired you?

Some guy called Swan.

Copy that.

Dixon and O'Donnell are in position.

Russo's down the street.

- All exits are covered.
- Hear that?

You try anything, you'll be sorry.

But you go in there, get paid,
give us the rundown...

How many inside, what they're packing...

Layout of the room,
where everyone's sitting...

We'll cut you loose and
you get to keep the cash.

- Understood?
- Yeah, man. Whatever.

I just never want
to see you people again.

Give me your phone.

Keep this in your pocket
so we can listen in.

You try anything, we come in hot

and you die with the rest of them.

Get going, stupid.

So, what are we thinking?

Swan went to work for New Age,

saw a chance to make the kind of money

he always dreamed of and took it?

Then what? He was
hanging out with Franzy,

them being in the same city and all,

slipped and said something
that made Franz suspicious?

Or...

tried to get Franz in on it?

Figured with a wife and kid,
he'd need the money, too.

Franz said no, tried to stop it,

called Sanchez and Orozco for help.

That sound about right?

I don't know,

but if Swan's really in that building,

I'm gonna do the same thing
I did to that guy.

Wrap my hand around his neck

and squeeze the truth out of him.

And after that?

Hello?

Anyone?