03x05 - Dead Men Tell No Tales

[bunniefuu]

♪ Last night ♪
♪ The devil learned my name ♪
♪ She said, "Come love me, baby..." ♪

(radio stations changing)

(static crackles, stops)

GPS: In one mile, stay to the right...

(man groans)

Just charged this thing.

(tires screeching)

(crashing)

(groaning)

Are you okay? Hey, you...?

This is not personal.

(choking)

(gasping)

Run.

(grunting)

(coughing)

Eternal rest is for unimportant men.

(crackling)

The king requires your service.

Will you answer his call...

General Howe?

Where?

You've arrived in Sleepy Hollow, my lord.

Raise your men, make the Patriot scum afraid again.

Afraid of Britain, afraid of her dead.

I offer you vengeance on a hated enemy who once tried to end your life.

Crane.

(pop rock music playing)

There you are, all up in your faces.

You missed the spare.

I'm more used to bowling on turf.

That would spare me these shoes.

I look like an Italian circus performer.

At least the shoes make it seem like you bothered to wear a costume at all.

Jenny: Seriously.

Abbie: Yeah.

I mean, I know you have a look and everything, but come on, today's the one day you get to change it up a bit.

Is it not obvious?

I'm John Adams.

The weskit.

Brushed brocade and French buttons.

It was his sartorial signature.

I spent all night on this embroidery.

I totally see it.

It's unmistakable.

Speaking of embroidery, isn't Hoop Dreams over there the one helping you with your citizenship application?

(Zoe laughing)

Crane: Oh, Miss Corinth.

Yes.

Abbie: Oh, come on, Crane.

Go.

Ichabod. Well, hello.

Miss Corinth, what a pleasant surprise.

I love the brocade waistcoat.

Very John Adams.

Thank you.

You like?

Yes, you look effervescent.

(laughs)

Uh... you are...

Needle and thread champ.

I'm Betsy Ross.

Of course you are.

Unmistakable.

Well, with a little spice thrown in.

Not that she was boring, but I mean, you know, seamstress.

I'm sure she would've approved wholeheartedly.

(laughs)

Bowl a frame with me later?

You can rely on it.

(laughs)

Ooh, swagger.

You still think Halloween isn't fun?

The Celts believed All Hallows' Eve to be a sacred time when the souls of lost loved ones walked the earth and were honored with prayer, not face paint and molasses-based faux blood.

But miniskirts and blue eyes get a pass.

When in Rome.

(laughing)

(phone chimes)

Ah... Lieutenant.

On our trip to Washington, Dr. Brennan arranged to transport General Howe's remains to the Historical Society.

Yeah.

Almost made it for the drive and Agent Booth's charming personality.

The thing is... the courier company claims the body never arrived.

(girl laughing)

(urinating)

Girl: Cody, we need more eggs.

Cody: Get them yourself.

Girl: Guys, look.

Come on.

Don't make me go all by myself.

Cody (laughs): This is awesome.

(laughing): This is so cool.

(laughter echoing)

Damn, when I die, book me a suite in here.

(scoffs) You can't afford it, bro.

Okay. I'm over this.

Let's go.

(footsteps approaching)

Oh, God.

Cody: Who the hell are you?

Screw this.

(grunting)

(Cody screams)

(screams)

(screaming)

(screaming continues)

Abbie: No sign of the driver.

Crane: Or Howe.

Why steal a 200-year-old skeleton?

Abbie: A lot of skid marks, like the driver was trying to avoid something.

Or someone.

Pandora.

What would she want with Howe's remains?

Tracks are headed that way.

Feel like hunting?

(thunder rumbling)

I know this place.

The British employed it as a staging ground during the invasion of Manhattan.

Afterwards, we built that mausoleum to house their dead soldiers.

Looks like someone came to pay their respects.

Abbie: As fun as it is bumping into Zoe, they have these things now called dates you can actually plan in advance.

Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that.

Miss Corinth and I are not romantically entangled.

Mm. Maybe you're not allowing yourself to get entangled.

You refer to Katrina?

Yes. No matter what you became in the end, you cared about her.

I mean, you two...

Six years.

We were husband and wife for six years.

She taught me strength, resilience, how to properly iron my vests.

Ghosts of the past have power over us.

Even if we truly want to move on, it's not that easy.

Yes, well... that chapter of my life is now closed.

Crane: What on earth?

My God.

Howe: Ichabod Crane!

General Howe.

Give us the names!

(footsteps approaching)

Take them!

Isn't that great.

Howe: Get them!

After them, you dogs!

Mills. What's up?

I was hoping you would tell me.

I'm not sure what you mean.

Since you moved into this office, you haven't closed the door.

Not until this morning anyway.

And then there are the two assistant U.S. attorneys in the lobby.

And you know, you drop your voice a half step when you lie.

I was just waiting on the right moment.

Looks like this is it.

It's an ongoing investigation I've been working.

Kind of takedown that makes a career.

Shell companies buying property across Westchester, all owned by one umbrella LLC... Court Imports.

Though on paper, a high-end importer of rare antiquities.

But the lion's share was actually looted from sites in Syria, Afghanistan, Iran.

They're buying items stolen by t*rrorists.

I'm still getting the warrants airtight.

Hence, the lawyers.

Oh.

But when the time comes, how does "Task Force Coordinator" sound?

Sounds good.

I've got to say, an operation this size... you'd have to pull me away from some of my other duties.

I'm sorry if it cuts into time with your roommate.

I think you know where my priorities lie, sir.

Let's talk later?

Mm.

Give us the names!

Just talked to SHPD.

They're calling the cemetery death accidental.

Some kind of prank gone wrong.

Nothing in Washington's Bible, Franklin's notebook.

Even Grace Dixon's journal yields nothing that could explain the desecration we witnessed.

We'll find something. We always do.

You are having a moment.

Although we ended as enemies, William Howe was once a man who commanded my respect.

Before the w*r, I served beneath him as lieutenant in His Majesty's forces.

Howe was a keen w*r strategist.

Staunchly loyal to his men and his country.

He was honorable, a good man.

Who sent a whispering wraith against you and your spy ring, pushed you to betray Washington.

Maybe he was once a great man, but he changed.

Which is why Washington sent me to k*ll him.

It was one of the darker periods of the w*r.

The invasion of Manhattan, when the British forces under Howe's command took control of the city, forcing the Patriots to retreat.

Leave. I'll do this myself.

Crane: In the early hours, Howe and his men commandeered a townhouse belonging to a Patriot.

(g*n clicks)

Stealth was always your strong suit, Crane.

Washington chose his man well.

I do not wish to k*ll you, but this invasion ends now.

Order your men off the island, and you shall live.

And trust the word of a turncoat?

Does dear old George know you were within a hair's breath of turning against him?

Perhaps in sending you to terminate my command, he was testing your loyalties.

The question is, can you do it?

k*ll a man in cold blood?

I've made my choice.

My allegiance is to this nation.

All your kin fought for the king.

You spit on their graves.

I shall ask only once.

Will you retreat?

Answer me.

I will never retreat until every last Colonial dog lies in a grave.

Do what you came to do, or leave before I have you clapped in irons!

May God have mercy on us both.

(doors thudding open, indistinct shouting)

sh**t him.

(g*nshots)

A moment later, I would have pulled the trigger, and we might have held the city.

Without Howe's command, the w*r could have ended sooner, sparing catastrophic bloodshed.

Instead, I failed in my mission.

What if there was another reason why Washington sent you to k*ll Howe?

All right, you said he was unpacking something when you found him.

Yes. Uh...

A stone with a Nordic emblem.

A man with two swords thrust through him.

In other words, a dead man walking.

There is a volume that belonged to Washington himself and, yes...

And if I'm not mistaken...

Here.

Draugur, a rare breed of undead warrior who swear an oath of duty in life that lasts beyond death.

Sounds like a bum deal.

The Draugur are nocturnal, spending their days subterranean.

Said to be unstoppable.

Abbie: What's this in the margins?

It's Washington's handwriting.

"All our methods built inside house primal tomb, his secrets lie."

"Methods" meaning how to defeat the Draugur.

The answer must be in Howe's tomb.

The team from the Jeffersonian discovered it in Philadelphia, dated 1812.

But this riddle mentions a primal tomb, meaning Howe was interred somewhere else first.

Question is, how do we find it?

How about these?

Howe's bones from the mausoleum.

FBI forensics can carbon-date them, provide a soil analysis, narrow down to location.

So Howe is the quarry, but we both know the architect of this scheme is Pandora.

She wants to raise fear, and she has chosen the perfect night.

Halloween.

The whole town will be on the street.

If we don't stop these Draugur by then, hundreds of people will die.

Hey, hey!

Hey!

(sighs)

Rye whiskey, large kosher pickles, extra brine, and... cocktail onions.

You know, you are the only man who has ever learned my recipe for the perfect Pickleback chaser.

They are a crime against good whiskey.

For a guy who hates 'em, you sure knock 'em back okay.

Well, maybe I enjoy the company. (whistles)

Ooh!

You keep bringing me chocolate, you can keep coming around.

(both laughing)

So, did you dig up anything on the Shard?

Well, we've got some bills of lading, IP addresses off the Deep Web, and... a face.

Meet the man who's after the Shard of Anubis...

Mr. Atticus Nevins.

I know this guy, Jenny.

He was a friend of my dad's.

What?

Atticus Nevins? Are you sure?

I... I mean, I didn't know his name.

Dad just called him "Bull"

'cause he carried a .30-cal in their platoon.

That-that, uh, box I brought over from the cabin... there's an album in it.

Okay.

Here.

Here. Look.

Uh, your dad sent me on how many missions buying and selling strange artifacts?

Yeah, and his old w*r buddy happens to be the kingpin of that entire black market?

What does that say about my dad?

If your dad was using me as a shill to make money, I would know it.

Are you sure?

I mean, how many secrets did he keep from me?

Well, we have a name now.

We can use it to get answers.

(sighs)

Joe...

Your dad was... one of the best guys I've ever known.

And until we have proof otherwise, I'm holding onto that.

Yeah.

Sorry that took so long. I had to go do some digging.

Mm.

I see you're doing some digging of your own.

Or should I say lurking?

Hmm? Oh, hardly.

Miss Corinth suggested I peruse her "instant gram."

Apparently, I've been "tagged."

Like I said, pure lurk.

The lab here cannot trace the location of Howe's "primal tomb." We don't have the equipment.

I could send it to DC, but that'd be a two-week turnaround.

Perhaps our new friends at the Jeffersonian Institute could be of assistance.

Dr. Brennan claimed to be the premiere forensic analyst in the country.

Now might be an opportunity for her and Agent Booth to "throw down."

And with their help, we might be able to find the tomb by nightfall.

You navigate. I'll drive.

Greetings on this All Hallows' Eve.

Abbie: Apologies for showing up unannounced like this.

Yeah.

I trust this will be a short visit.

We have a five-year-old at home who still has alterations needed for her Jane Goodall costume.

Yes, I seem to recall you have two children.

Her brother's going as a chimp.

But that is if we get back in time.

Hey, you said we could give you a call if we needed your help?

Didn't think it would be that soon. What's that?

(Brennan and Booth muttering quietly)

Brennan: Your lab only analyzed the cortical surface, but, over centuries, components of the coffin can be absorbed into the cancellous bone.

Which we could use to identify Howe's initial burial site.

I applaud your scientific instincts, but your theory that the Founding Fathers buried Howe twice is... (sighs) questionable, at best.

The Founders held all manner of superstition.

In fact, your institution's namesake, Thomas Jefferson, once reported contact with an alien species.

Well, Jefferson was brilliant.

He also had the scientific knowledge of a contemporary fourth grader.

You do not believe in the grander mysteries of the universe.

But what of faith, art, love?

Are these merely numbers?

Faith results from our fear of death.

Art from our ability to discern an attractive mate.

And love from our need to procreate.

Dr. Brennan, the way you look at Agent Booth is far more than just procreation.

Actually, procreation plays a significant part in our relationship.

(computer chimes)

(typing)

Oh, that's interesting.

This bone contains particulates of quartz and feldspar.

Components of sandstone.

The composition matches samples from two quarries, one in Seneca, Maryland, and one in Montgomery.

Only one structure shares stone from both those quarries.

The Capitol building.

Washington wished his tomb to be built within the very foundations of the building itself.

A tomb that was never used.

So your work suggests the Founders used Washington's empty tomb to conceal Howe's actual grave site.

Dr. Brennan, Agent Mills and I deeply appreciate your assistance.

You just posited the existence of what may be an astounding archaeological find.

I demand to participate in your research.

I was just about to propose the very same.

Right. Okay.

You got to help me out here. You called in a favor to solve some, what is it, two-bit historical mystery?

History's important.

Somebody's got to keep the record straight.

Okay. So what do you say we keep it straight?

What is this really all about?

You trying to solve some off-book, uh, investigation or something?

What if it were?

You're one of Corbin's protégés.

I'd still have your back.

First day on the b*at, Corbin told me that most of the real work you do is outside the job.

That worked for local PD, but the Bureau...

That's-that's a whole new level.

I've dreamt about this for years. I don't want to mess up my sh*t.

So why don't you trust August Corbin? He knew what you had.

You have to believe that.

We have a lead on Howe's tomb.

Are we all ready to go?

All of us?

Negotiation's not really in Dr. Brennan's nature.

She doesn't like to negotiate.

This could be a history-making discovery.

Or it could prove Mr. Crane dead wrong.

I am comfortable with either outcome.

You're always comfortable. Okay, what do you say we do this.

Crane, nice coat. Come on. Which way we going?

Come on. Let's go.

(birds chirping)

I don't know.

I may have been wrong about this address.

It was listed on half the documents on Nevins, so I just thought...

No, this is the place.

I've been here before.

I was just a kid.

I told you my dad and Nevins would go up to the cabin sometimes.

We'd stop here to get supplies.

Dad would buy me a sandwich, sit me out front while he went inside.

Hey. That doesn't necessarily mean...

That he was working with Nevins?

You said it yourself... the man had a lot of secrets.

(sighs)

There she is.

Follow my lead.

Whoa.

The balls on you two.

Hey, easy.

All we want is to sit down with your boss.

Yeah? That's not gonna happen.

It's a personal thing. A family thing.

Am I supposed to care?

All right, we'll give you the Shard.

That's what he wants, right?

Hey, hey, Joe, hold on.

Nevins sits down with us, answers my questions, and we'll give it to him.

You have my word.

All right.

He's down in the city on business, but, uh, I'll see what I can arrange.

Oh. Funny thing, after you stole the Shard from me that first time, I told Nevins I'd find you, get it back.

He told me to sit tight, that you'd show up on your own soon enough.

(chuckles)

(engine revving)

Are you crazy?

We still don't know what the hell that thing is.

I know. And I'm sorry. It's just...

Look, we may not get a chance like this again.

Look, I promise, I won't let anything bad happen.

Joe, in this world, that is not a promise you can make.

(sighs)

Abbie: Sorry we couldn't take the tour.

Crane: It was everything the Founding Fathers dreamt of.

Booth: Great. A musty old basement, huh?

A basement is never just a basement with the Masons.

Oh...

Hold on. Okay... that symbol there has no notch, but this symbol has a notch.

Its placement calls to mind a keyhole.

It's not just rounded. It's a few centimeters deep.

Crane, your ring.

Doctor...

Oh.

Thank you.

Lieutenant.

Yeah.

Thank you.

(clicking)

Brennan: Oh! Oh.

(laughs)

This is astonishing.

Mm.

And yet, only this morning, it was questionable.

Somewhere in here should be the secret to defeating Howe's Draugur Army.

Well, it'll be hard to find with those two looking over our shoulders.

Brennan: Oh...

Whoa. Did you see this, Mr. Crane?

These runes match the markings on the original coffin.

All right, look, Abbie, this isn't off the book... this is off the reservation.

Booth: Whoa, whoa...

Crane!

Booth!

Crane!

(grunts)

Crane, can you hear me? Crane.

There must be a gear counterweight operating the wall.

Whoa.

Oh, my. I have a bad feeling about this.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.

A fuse just sparked. We got to get 'em out of there.

Doctor, stay down.

(gasps)

Crane!

This is no ordinary blaze.

I believe this is Greek fire, a legendary flame that cannot be extinguished.

Brennan: The odor indicates a combination of naphthenic and palmitic acids.

This is napalm.

Abbie: Crane!

Crane! We got to get them out of there.

Hold on. What is this?

Abbie: Uh, yeah, okay. I've seen a lock like this before. Each button represents an alchemical symbol.

It's like a puzzle. All we have to do is figure out...

Your way works, too.

Right.

Bones.

You insisted on coming.

Right. Okay.

All right. You okay?

This is extraordinary.

A hidden tomb armed with a precursor to napalm.

Do you understand what this means?

I don't know.

George Washington is a complete badass?

No, no. It means we need to excavate this entire subterranean - Oh. installation. It should be mapped, exhumed.

We shouldn't even be here.

All right, slow down. Okay, we got to go. We'll get everything back We are contaminating the site. to the Jeffersonian, okay? Let's go, Crane. Get out of there.

You're not worried about them?

Hardly. Her skepticism's interminable.

She'd dismiss Moloch as a tall man with a skin condition.

Though we do have cause for worry.

I believe I have discovered the Draugur's weakness.

And that's bad because...?

We'll have to burn Sleepy Hollow to the ground.

There can be only one reason why Washington would deploy such volatile ordnance right under the Capitol.

It was a trap... built for a very specific thr*at.

The Draugur.

And since Howe was their commander, anyone that survived would try to rescue their master's body.

And, in doing so, would be faced with their only weakness, Greek fire.

Yeah, Brennan said it was just some kind of napalm.

We'll get our hands on some.

Why would that pose a thr*at to the town?

Because Greek fire is far more sinister than your napalm.

It cannot be extinguished by water or by sand.

Once unleashed, it burns until nothing remains.

As I believe was remonstrated on the isle of Manhattan.

Betsy Ross was leading Patriot refugees off the island via a series of hidden tunnels.

Crane.

Betsy.

I come from Howe's encampment.

He lives. And he refuses to relinquish the city.

Our orders have changed.

I'm to get out of the city before countermeasures are deployed.

What countermeasures?

Ichabod, please.

There's no time.

You're saying if the countermeasure was Greek fire...

Yes, Lieutenant.

Then we were not facing conventional forces... but a cadre of Draugur.

Merely hours after the British invaded, the city was set ablaze in the Great Fire of New York, the cause of which remained a mystery... until now.

(screams)

Hyah!

Washington had no choice... he was facing a zombie army.

Howe desecrated the dead to build an unstoppable army, one which required an indomitable w*apon in order to stop it.

And now we are faced with a similar dilemma.

That's not an option.

Fine.

Then we find another way.

Trick or treat!

What do you say?

Boo!

Woman: April, slow down!

April!

April?!

Woman (in distance): April, where are you, sweetie?

Woman: April!

And where is your mother, dear?

It would break her heart if she lost you.

And you don't want to lose your treats.

We never had sweets when I was a girl.

(screams)

General...

Are your men prepared to assemble?

When the last sunbeam sets...

...go forth and slaughter.

Sun sets in 15 minutes at which point the whole town will be out on the street.

So, what did you call these things?

Crane: Cheirosiphones.

A post-Hellenic w*apon designed specifically to deploy Greek fire.

We've mixed ten gallons of the stuff, but once it lights, how do we put out the blaze?

We draw them into the tunnels.

If we can contain the Draugur underground, we do not risk burning the town.

Wait, I missed how we get them down there in the first place.

I shall be bait.

The general loathes me with a sempiternal fervor, and where he goes... the Draugur follow.

(indistinct chatter)

(men marching in unison)

(marching grows louder)

Boy: Hey, Mom! Look! Soldiers!

Woman: Check it out.

Cool costumes!

Company... halt!

Man: Whoa! Take a look at that!

Man: Sweet!

Howe: Ready, men!

Aim!

Fire!

(tires screech)

(people screaming)

Over here!

(g*nsh*t)

Abbie: Everybody, move! That way! Come on! Move!

General Howe.

I'm the one you want.

(cocks r*fle)

Let's end this.

(grunts)

Is that the best you've got, General?

(loud thud)

(grunting)

I hope you know what you're doing, Crane.

(rumbling)

Now!

Let 'em burn!

(yelling)

(groans)

(screaming)

(Crane groans)

Oh... Timely assist. Thank you.

Compliments later. Let's move.

Crane!

Your army's defeated, Howe!

It's over.

I should have ended this long ago.

I will not give you the satisfaction... turncoat.

♪

(screaming)

A valiant battle, General.

(sighs) Now...

...one more bud to blossom...

...one more here to sting.

Love... is what the victors bring.

We're glad to hear the Jeffersonian's decided to take Washington's tomb under its jurisdiction.

Oh, I'd start by getting rid of the napalm first.

The Jeffersonian would love your help with the excavation, Mr. Crane.

Crane: Ooh. Well, I'm flattered, but I am in the process of renovating a historical property of my own.

Brennan: Too bad. The site poses more than a few questions. If colonial Americans had Greek fire, why didn't they use it during the battles of the Revolution?

And you still haven't sufficiently explained how you came across Washington's letter.

Let it go, Bones, just... let it go.

Thanks again for your help.

Booth: Yeah. You know what, don't mention it.

But next time you find a death trap, just give us a heads-up first.

Oh, yes, we shall. You have our word.

(electronic tones sound, ending call)

(sighs)

You okay, Crane?

I know seeing Howe must have been difficult.

Oh, I feel relieved.

He's a part of my past I can put behind me.

Even the ghosts of the past have to take a break.

But... sometimes they need a little push.

I don't follow.

Zoe. Call her.

She's a good one.

♪

Miss Corinth, it is Ichabod Crane.

Ichabod.

Yes. Of course.

Uh, caller identification is a marvel.

No. No, no.

I... I was merely wondering... if you have no prior engagement this evening...

I would be honored to escort you to supper.

You wanted to see me?

Yeah. Take a seat.

Can you shut the door for me, please?

Mm-hmm.

Uh... I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you offering me a spot on the team.

I know it's been a hectic few weeks, but I can handle it.

Burn the candle at both ends if I have to.

I want in.

Yeah? Well, it may be a little more complicated than that, because it looks like you already are a part of it.

The man I'm working to take down, his name is Atticus Nevins.

And the woman in the photo, the one your sister and her EMT friend are meeting with, she's his top operative.

So I ask, what the hell is going on here?