04x06 - Pretenders

[bunniefuu]

Finch: We are being watched. The government has a secret system... a machine that spies on you every hour of every day. I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything... violent crimes involving ordinary people. The government considers these people irrelevant. We don't. Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret. You will never find us. But victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

Man: What do we have here, boys?

Man 2: Looks like a su1c1de jumper.

I.D. says his name's Abel Mindler.

[Line trilling]

Man: Driver's dead.

Man 2: Like I give a damn. Where's my truck?

Finch: John, any luck discovering who's trying to k*ll our short-order cook?

[Choking] Yeah, all kinds of luck.

[g*nsh*t]

Man: Get down!

Wendell Majoki, maybe next time, don't sleep with your landlord's wife.

Have a nice day. Here.

What the hell?

We just stopped a homicide.

Congratulations?

[Cell phone rings]

Just about done here, Harold.

Oh, good. We have a new number.

I'm sending you the details now.

I hope it's better than this one.

My hero.

And are personal calls allowed? No, they are not.

Are there lots of temps who want this job if you don't?

Why, yes, there are.

Do I understand? Yes, I do.

Welcome to Witherton.

I'm spending my day off doing this?

[Grumbles]

That sound is my soul dying, Harold.

Walter Dang appreciates your metaphysical sacrifice.

Well, maybe his number came up because he'd rather be dead than penned up like veal.

Unlikely, Mr. Dang has worked for Witherton Insurance for six years... a steady job, no drug or alcohol problems, not so much as a speeding ticket.

Our colleague, John, is trying to find out more.

Harold, is there a problem?

Oh, not at all. It's just that I'm calling you on a satellite phone and not our mesh network.

As long as we don't use certain words, it's safe.

You mean like...

[Sneezing] Samaritan.

Yes, like that one.

[Door closes]

Oh, crap. Oh.

Let me help you.

[Cell phone whirring, beeping]

You're Walter, right?

Hi.

Sameen, I'm new.

Hi, Sameen, I'm... I'm Walter.

But you already said that. Um...

Okay, um, these are the new applications for term life.

Oh.

Nobody's called or texted this guy in four days?

What, no friends, no family?

Finch: And yet someone may care enough to k*ll him.

[Sobbing]

Elena?

I'm very sorry about your brother.

Thank you, Walter.

Her name is Elena Mindler.

Wish I could help.

I heard the gossip at orientation her brother Abel k*lled himself a few days ago.

[Sobs] It still bothers me that he didn't write me a note.

Well, I'm working on that.

Working on what?

Working on what?

Uh, nothing. N-Never mind.

N-No.

(Shaw) That's weird.

I'm so sorry.

Finch: Indeed.

What's he doing now?

Well, it looks like he's trying to repair a cell phone.

He just took the SIM card and put it in a new burner.

Let's see where that SIM card came from.

[Cell phone beeping]

Okay, let's see what's on that baby.

Wait. Hang on.

He's leaving.

I'm on it.

No, Sameen, John is downstairs. You're needed elsewhere.

Oh?

Okay, he's all the way up to the 150s.

Anybody know where he's going?

Nope. How about you, Harold?

Harold?

Honey.

Where are you exactly?

Finch: Sorry. Professor Whistler is at a conference.

My department head insisted.

I have to present a paper tomorrow to 500 bitter academics.

Mm-hmm. Boston? Atlanta?

Hong Kong. 16 hours in coach.

Sameen, can I depend on you to handle any technological issues that the new number presents?

[Sighs]

No problem. I can do nerd.

Are you eating something near my computer?

[Mouth full] Maybe.

Just don't spill anything. Good luck.

Walter's at a sketchy hotel in Washington Heights.

Texting you the address.

Maybe he's got a drug problem we don't know about.

Could be something worse.

Walter's coworker Elena, her brother Abel committed su1c1de...

Yeah.

...by jumping off of a fire escape at that hotel.

What the hell is Walter up to?

Well, right now he's checking out the fire escape.

What for?

Maybe to hide evidence. He's got a g*n, Shaw.

Well, that's illegal, unregistered.

Are we sure Abel Mindler's death was a su1c1de?

Here you go, Professor.

Professor Whistler.

Harold Whistler.

Beth Bridges, hello. I've been eager to meet you.

Oh?

You're presenting the paper on precautionary principles in neuro-evolutionary decision-making systems.

Why, yes. [Chuckles]

Every single conclusion you draw is completely and utterly wrong.

Oh.

You couldn't have written a paper that annoyed me more if you tried.

"Ethics requires that we proceed slowly in predictive analytics" but what about innovation?

Oh, you're a pro-actionist.

Precautionary principles, Professor Bridges...

"Professor"? Please, I work for a living.

Ms. Bridges, precautionary principles create the only possible framework when you consider the implications of neuro-evolutionary technologies.

Well, people have a right to science.

And a right to responsible scientists.

I knew I was going to enjoy Hong Kong.

Shaw: Hey, Reese, I've been looking at these police reports that Fusco sent over.

It's possible that su1c1de wasn't.

I was afraid you'd say that.

Abel Mindler, a truck driver, at a local company, got laid off a year back, lost everything.

Yeah, but people have offed themselves for less.

Well, that's what everyone assumed.

Elaine even said her brother was depressed, but here's the thing... according to the report, one hotel guest said that she heard loud male voices before Abel went all flying squirrel.

And nobody followed it up?

The woman admitted she was drunk, and the cops didn't believe her.

But it's still possible Abel Mindler didn't die voluntarily.

Well, whatever happened, Walter definitely knows something.

That SIM card he put in the burner phone belongs to Abel.

Reese: Any idea why Walter's got the dead guy's SIM card?

Nope. I have gone through everything on that card.

There is not one text or call between him and Walter.

Oh, but some guy named, uh, Banks Van Hess did text Abel a lot.

About what a stupid name "Banks" is?

Close... about an important delivery, which makes sense, because Van Hess is a supervisor at the port authority at a local airport.

Funny thing...

Walter's just arrived at an airport now.

You got eyes on him?

Yeah, sort of.

Excuse me. Can I help you?

Detective Jack Forge, Special Task Force.

Detective?

I got to talk to your port authority supervisor, Van Hess, but the door's locked.

Okay, I got to call it in.

Whoa. You could do that, son, but you might just blow my case.

What case?

Homicide.

[Chuckles]

All right.

He's got to be kidding.

Well, what do you know, Reese?

I guess you're not the only one pretending to be a cop.

Mr. Van Hess?

Mr. Van Hess?

Banks Van Hess?

[Liquid pouring on floor]

No, please.

Please don't.

I-I don't know where it is, I swear.

I don't know where he dumped it.

Hey, Banks, I finally believe you.

No!

[g*nsh*t]

Problem?

Sounds like it.

Mr. Van Hess?

Detective Jack Forge! Nobody move!

[g*nshots]

Oh!

Oh, my God!

Aah!

Hey.

[Grunts]

Sorry. We're in a hurry.

[g*nshots]

Thanks for rolling on this one, Fusco.

Breakfast is on you. Hey, get a look at these guys?

K*llers were pros, all in masks.

Damn near b*rned down the building, destroyed every file.

Shaw: Covering something up.

And Walter?

I'm keeping his name out of this until we learn more.

Like why he's faking being a cop?

I think our detective is investigating something.

Something like Abel's death?

I'll let you know.

[Snorts]

Riley, Joint Task Force.

Detective, sorry about the, you know, bonk on the head there. Uh... so are you and I working the same case, Detective?

[Stuttering]

Forge, Jack... Jack Forge.

I...

Uh, yes, you and I are... I'm...

This m*rder ties into... into a new case I'm investigating.

Well, I should be going.

I sure could use your help, Forge.

Maybe we could, uh, you know, compare notes.

Yeah.

I started out trying to find Abel's su1c1de note.

The sister wanted my help.

Jack Forge does not like to let a lady down.

No, of course not, but you found something else instead?

Yeah, on Abel's phone.

Hey. Fusco.

Lionel, hey, I need to speak to you.

Forge, Detective Forge.

My partner tells me you see a link between my homicide and some su1c1de you're working?

Yeah, Abel Mindler... he was a truck driver, and Van Hess worked at the port authority handling all incoming shipping at that airport, so...

So you're thinking smuggling, right?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I called Abel's old trucking company.

One of their trucks is missing.

Now Van Hess is dead.

What if Abel wasn't a su1c1de?

Jack Forge does not believe in coincidence.

Hold on. That's a victim's phone.

Yeah.

Where's the tag?

Evidence tag?

The tag fell off.

Yeah, Lionel, it fell off.

[Whispering] Can I talk to you for a sec?

[Normal voice] Excuse us.

Could you take it easy on the guy?

The guy isn't a cop.

I know, but he thinks he's working a case and is gonna get himself k*lled, so play nice.

[Sighs]

What?

Hey, sexy.

[Whining]

[Groans]

Oh, come on, big man.

You've got to eat.

[Cell phone vibrating]

[Sighs]

Harold, Bear's gone all Belgian supermodel on me and he won't eat.

What's wrong?

I think he misses you.

Okay, put him on.

Who's a good boy? You are, Bear.

Now, eat your breakfast.

[Speaking German] Okay?

Oh, uh, one more thing.

That guy Abel Mindler's phone, the maybe not su1c1de I was telling you about...

can I recover deleted texts?

Well, not from the SIM card if it's damaged the way you say it is.

Try the cloud.

"The cloud"?

Tweets, "Friends are" pages, angler messages... they never go away.

We have finally achieved immortality, sameen.

Even when our bodies die, our personal data lives on in cyberspace forever, whether you like it or not.

I have to go.

Well, where were we?

Oh, yes, I was about to reveal to you your misunderstanding of deep learning.

I built my company on my misunderstanding of deep learning.

You're a sponsor of the conference.

You must be doing well.

I will be if I can get this angel investor interested.

Look at the time.

Perhaps we should head back to the hotel.

If you admit I won the argument.

Are you really as suspicious of artificial neural nets as you pretend?

I trust people more than machines, that's all.

That's an odd thing for a scientist to say.

I'm not a scientist. I'm an economist.

Liar.

[Chuckles]

Favorite equation?

Come on, I know you have one.

Pythagorean Identity.

Okay.

I knew you'd disagree. What's yours?

Euler's Identity. It's so beautiful.

Beautiful?

Yeah.

At first, you don't realize the implications, and then it hits you.

It's the five most important constants, E, I, 1, 0...

And Pi.

[Chuckles] All linked together.

It's like the secrets of the cosmos distilled into a-a sonnet.

Perhaps you're right after all.

Why, Harold.

Money!

Hey!

Give it!

Hey!

Ya!

Please. Here, just take it.

Oh, my God.

Elena, it's Abel.

I think I'm in trouble. Call me.

Hi, Walter.

[Sighs] "Hello. How are you?

You're beautiful." Way to go, Walter.

[Keys clacking, computer beeping]

Van Hess, it's Abel. What the hell am I moving?

This box says "H.E. rounds."

Call me. I'm opening the other crates.

Crap.

[Cell phone beeps, dialing]

[Line trilling]

Yeah?

Reese, I know what Abel and Van Hess are smuggling... g*ns that use high-expl*sive rounds.

Into New York?

Walter's at work. I'm on my way now.

Yeah, me too.

[Cell phone ringing]

Hello?

Man: Detective Forge, we need to talk.

[Telephone ringing]

Man: Hello, Walter.

[Both phones ringing]

[Tires screeching]

Hey! [Struggling]

Shut up. Get down.

Oh!

[Van door closes, tires squealing]

[Groaning]

[Thud]

Man: What the hell?

[Tires screeching]

[g*nshots]

[Van door opens]

[Walter breathing heavily]

Hi, Walter.

[Tires screeching]

Down, Walter.

What was that?

A g*n, a big one. Let's go.

Walter: Oh, my God!

Run, they're trying to k*ll me, not you!

[g*n clicking]

[g*nsh*t]

[Tires squealing]

This reminds me of Kabul.

On a bad day. Who the hell are these people?

No, the question is, who are you?

'Cause you sure as hell aren't a cop.

[Laughs] Oops.

Let's go.

Where are we?

Somewhere we can't be watched.

[Chuckles]

What?

You're like a freakin' superhero.

No, I'm not.

[Vehicle approaching]

[Engine stops, car doors close]

Yeah, you are.

Nice.

Lionel, you are so lucky.

Now we know what Van Hess and Abel Mindler smuggled in.

Question is, how many?

What is it?

Barrett XM109.

Barrett XM109.

Fusco: State-of-the-art next-generation w*apon.

Stop it.

H.E. rounds, high-expl*sive... used only in anti-material weapons, shreds a bulletproof vest like paper.

Bulletproof Limo too.

w*apon like this could wreak havoc on the city.

How do you do that with your voice?

Do what?

N-Nothing.

All right, so who's our big bad, huh?

The guy who hired Abel and Van Hess to deliver the g*n and then k*lled them.

The man who called you on Abel's phone... could you tell anything about him?

Yeah, he was really, really scary.

Wow. Good detective work.

You must know something.

Walter, those men... they tried to abduct you, not k*ll you.

Yeah, well, it felt pretty k*ll-y to me, okay?

Look, I'm sorry, guys. I don't know anything.

I'll trace the calls Walter got.

I'm taking this back to the eighth.

[Sighs] So what are we doing?

This sucks.

No offense.

It's for your safety. Come on.

Hey, hey, a police scanner.

This is the new kind, right?

You know, I used to listen to police scanners every night.

It helped me fall asleep.

You know, a couple years ago, there was this, um...

I don't know... this vigilante I guess you'd call him.

He protected people.

Drove the cops nuts, though. They called him the man in... the suit.

I'm gonna lock this door. Don't worry.

Oh, by the way, your girlfriend is amazing.

Sameen?

Not my girlfriend.

W-Why not?

That son of a bitch took my laptop.

I'm so sorry.

I'm calling the police.

Oh, please don't do that.

You see, that man took my passport, identification.

We can go to the Consulate tomorrow.

I'd prefer not to involve the police.

You see, I have a visa problem.

The H.K.P. won't care, I promise.

Ms. Bridges... Beth, please don't call the police.

All right.

Besides, it may be that it's not needed.

I believe I know where that man works when he's not out mugging people.

How?

There was a placard on his motorbike.

Here, I can draw you the characters.

You have a good eye.

Apparently, stress improves memory.

[Laughs] Okay, sure.

It means "Curry Leaves" it's a restaurant.

Motorbike was a delivery guy.

Let's go.

You realize this is insane.

We'd better hurry.

I got Walter secured. You good?

Good? I'm herniated.

This super g*n is super heavy.

No luck tracing those calls to Walter.

Whoever it is really knows their stuff.

They bounced that call around the world twice before it even got to our boy.

And?

Worse news... I found another deleted text from Abel the truck driver.

That g*n we recovered... it's a prototype.

Abel and Van Hess brought in 20 crates last week.

That's 100 of those g*ns.

[Sighs]

And we've got no idea who's got them.

How you doing?

Hey, how's it going?

Detective Fusco. I need to check this in.

No problem, Detective.

I need you to sign here and here.

[Keys jingling]

Hello, there. You must be Walter.

Nate Elliot, FBI. It's good to meet you.

Detective Riley seems to think that you might be able to help us with this g*n-smuggling case.

Well, I'm always happy to help the law.

[Zipper opens]

Okay, let's go.

Walter?

g*n! Everyone down!

Man: Down! Get down!

John?

Sorry, Detective.

He's coming with us. Everyone back.

John?

Man: Drop your w*apon!

J-John?

Ugh!

Are you all right?

What the hell is going on?

Elias.

Come on.

Elias is sending his men to our house.

He looking to start a w*r?

You sure you're all right?

Mother always said I had a hard head.

Don't worry, I'll get Walter to the safe house.

Meet you there. First, I have to see an old friend.

Reese: Tell me where Elias is.

Man: I'm texting you an address.

Come alone.

[Buzzer]

There's no need for that, sir. Mr. Elias is expecting you.

This way.

Elias: Hello, John.

See anything you like?

Grand theft.

Assaulting a police officer, attempted kidnapping.

Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take you out right now.

I'll give you three.

[g*ns cocking]

All pointed at your head.

Let's take a walk, shall we?

I have to tell you, I'm disappointed, John, as a friend.

You seem to forget who I am, a man with business interests.

Like g*ns?

No. No, no, no.

This establishment belongs to my friend Ricardo.

Personally, I don't care much for the illegal g*n trade, but someone has to keep it under control.

Otherwise, the city turns into Chicago.

Chicago's a mess, John.

It's like a damn Tarantino movie out there.

You and I have a problem.

You tried to grab up my witness, twice.

No, just once, at the precinct.

The other attempt was the armorer.

The armorer?

He's not important.

What's important is that I speak with your witness.

You seem to forget who I am.

Now, you tell me about this armorer.

He's a weapons man from Chicago.

He brought in a hundred of these next-gen g*ns by leveraging a port authority supervisor.

Banks Van Hess.

Mm.

He hired a driver by the name of Abel Mindler to transport them.

Yes, but Abel Mindler was an honest man.

Once he realized what he was carrying, he dumped the truck with the g*ns.

The truck.

The truck is still missing.

Those weapons are still out there somewhere.

Which is why the armorer sent men to have a chat with Abel Mindler, but it went awry.

Abel had a nasty fall trying to escape them.

It's hard to find good help these days.

But now your man knows where the truck is, John.

It's got to be why the armorer is after him, and it's why you're gonna bring Walter Dang to me.

That's not gonna happen.

He should have come out to deliver some food by now.

Maybe they're backed up.

I realize why you disagree with my work, by the way.

Oh?

You don't feel the end justifies the means.

Don't I?

I know what it means to build something troubling, because in the end, it might help people, and I know what it means to regret it, so I suppose you could say it depends.

Are you having second thoughts about what we're doing here?

Excuse me.

Where are our things?

There.

We should run.

So where's this safe house?

It's close. John's on his way.

So listen, let me ask you a question.

How long you been working with him?

My partner? A couple months.

No, I don't mean Detective Riley.

I mean John. You know, secret identity.

Few years, right, right here in New York?

I wanted to ask you about that.

[Phone ringing]

Yeah, Fusco.

I know why people are after Walter.

It's not what he knows, it's what he has... Abel's phone.

Phone?

What phone?

Reese: Abel ditched the truck with the g*ns, but his phone kept a record of the G.P.S. coordinates.

Walter, you've basically got a treasure map in your pocket.

Come on, we're gonna get you inside now.

You move and we take your boy apart!

The phone! Where's Mindler's phone?

[Grunts]

You move an inch, and I'll blow your head off.

John!

Come on, come on.

[Winces] I think it missed the major blood vessel, Shaw.

Oh, but your deltoid is gonna hurt like hell.

Damn! Why couldn't Finch be here playing computer games?

Yeah, well, he's not, so you want to tell me where I'm going?

The bad guys got the phone, and they'll use it to find the truckload of g*ns, and when they do, Walter will be one dead fake cop.

Ow.

Baby.

Okay, the armorer has the phone, but we have the backup of the cell phone G.P.S. coordinates.

I'm sending you there now. Keep going north.

They're all here, Boss, all 20 cases.

Man: Yeah, it's me. We're in business.

We have the g*ns.

That means I don't need you anymore.

Do it.

No! No! No! No! No!

Fusco: Drop your weapons!

Gentlemen.

Crap.

Finish it.

[g*nf*re]

Ah!

[Screams]

Uh! Help!

Ah!

It's about time you showed up.

Nathan: You're welcome.

John! [Screams]

Ow!

[Coughs] I got you sh*t.

I let you down. [Panting]

I'm sorry.

Here, you did good.

[Beeps]

Nice try.

So you're the armorer. It's a pleasure.

Those g*ns would have changed the balance of power in my city.

Did you think I'd let that happen?

He's smarter than you, old man.

You're not the one behind this.

Oh, that's good. That's good.

Tell me who it is.

Tell me now, I put you on a helicopter and save your life. You get to live.

Screw you.

Sorry.

No, that's all right. I know who it is.

Am I gonna die?

You got sh*t in the arm, not the head.

Ah!

That was so awesome!

Ow! Ow.

What happened?

Don't say it. But...

No, don't say it. It... it's just a scratch.

[Groans]

So, um, Mr. Dang, on behalf of the NYPD, I'd like to thank you for helping us take down a dangerous g*n smuggler.

Wow!

[Applause]

Um, just a sec. Come on, I need to speak with you.

So, Walter... what you've seen with me and my, uh, other friends...

Don't worry. Nobody would believe me anyway.

Hey, listen, that vigilante I heard about, the man in the suit?

I didn't tell you the rest.

He disappeared a few months ago, and crime went up... v*olence, killings, and the city needed somebody to keep up the fight, so I figured, why not me?

But you know, "me" kind of sucks, so I invented Detective Forge, all because the man in the suit went away.

But I was wrong, wasn't I? He wasn't really gone at all.

Good-bye, Walter.

[Chuckles]

Hi.

I want to... I want to talk to you about Abel.

Okay?

Okay.

Come on.

Elias: It's time we had a chat about your truck.

Elias?

Dominic, you're a hard man to find.

Where are they?

Don't play, old man. You know why I came.

The g*ns are gone, for good.

My friend at the NYPD agreed to personally supervise their destruction.

Your friend, John Riley?

How many'd you bring?

sn*pers? Three.

Plus the Barrett g*n prototype about a half mile that way.

I kept that one for myself.

Guess I should be flattered.

Some underestimate you. I don't.

You created the armorer, a figurehead to take the fall for you if the g*n deal went bad.

Is that what I did?

This is the second time you've seen fit to interfere in my business.

You should've stayed underground.

Years ago, back before the ice breakers, this water would freeze over in winter sometimes, all the way across.

It looked quiet, almost dead, but it wasn't.

No?

No, no.

Just hidden for a while.

But after its winter period, it would roar back to life, the water flowing so fast, an unwary man could drown.

So springtime's here, is that it?

I have never interfered in your business, Dominic.

I have only conducted my own. You'd do well to stay clear.

A man is not a river, and you are not a king.

Harold, what are you doing next month?

Why?

I have to be in New York.

Angel investor nonsense.

I thought maybe we could have a coffee.

I would like that.

Try not to get mugged until then.

You're sure you installed it in her computer?

Quite sure. What were you thinking, knocking me about like that?

You're being well compensated.

You're well rid of that woman. She's a bitch.

Don't call her that.

Our business is finished. Go.

[Sighs]

Man: And have you enjoyed Hong Kong?

Yes, the conference was interesting, thanks.

It gave me a few thoughts on Phase One.

Indeed.

I'll present them to you when we meet in New York.

Get your checkbook ready.

We're very eager to meet you. See you in a month.

Morning, sir.

Just wanted to give you a quick report on Asia.

The startup in Guangzhou and the factory in Mumbai.

Oh, yes.

And the seed money for the new company in Tokyo.

Elizabeth Bridges.

Samaritan is becoming very interested in her algorithms.

Why?

I've no idea.