02x04 - If Beth

[bunniefuu]

(music playing over radio)

(muffled grunting)

Jane: What is this place?

Why'd you bring me here?

40 years ago you had to make a pretty decent living to afford a place on this lake.

But then people started getting sick.

Cancer, sterility, birth defects.

Turns out a chemical plant up river had been leaking for years.

They'd known about it the whole time, of course, but it was cheaper to up their campaign contributions than to repair the damage.

So the people elected to protect us looked the other way as... thousand of families were destroyed.

I don't...

Lake Aurora should mean something.

But betrayals like these are so common now, they don't even make the news.

I brought you here because I need you to get angry again.

I know our methods might seem barbaric, but this... this is what we're fighting against.

We're not attacking this country.

We're defending it.

What, exactly, is Shepherd planning?

You're gonna make people very nervous with questions like that.

We should get back.

Do you have any idea how many children Jones could have hurt over the past two decades?

(machine beeps)

We're having trouble getting victims to come in and testify.

(machine beeps)

We'll get him. I promise.

(machine beeps)

What do you mean you're not bringing the case?

Jones's lawyers would tear him apart.

(machine beeps)

You don't remember.

(Reade panting)

Remember what, Freddy?

Freddy: You were there.

(panting)

(motor whirring down)

Sorry, I, uh, I didn't realize you couldn't have coffee.

Kurt...

I've got some decaf.

Kurt, forget about the coffee.

Come on, what's up?

Sorry, I, um...

(clears throat)

I don't think I've been handling this very well.

That's because you haven't.

(chuckling)

Every time I think about it, I...

I get, like, a pit in my stomach.

You get a pit in your stomach?

I have someone growing inside me.

And they're gonna keep growing.

They're probably gonna be bigger than me one day, and they're gonna listen to horrible music.

And they're never gonna listen to me when I tell them not to sleep with their science teacher because what do I know?

I couldn't even figure out birth control.

Allie... I'm in.

Huh?

I'm in.

Okay.

Okay, that's, um...

This... this is good. Come here.

(chuckling)

(giggling)

(knocking on door)

Freddy... hey.

Sorry to just show up like this.

My phone's still...

No, no, that's why I gave you my address.

Everything okay?

I hate to ask this, but, uh, you think I could crash here for a bit?

What's going on?

Nothing.

Just had a few... drinks.

Girlfriend freaked out.

I mean, if it's too much trouble...

No, no, of course, man. Come on in.

This place is nice, man.

You need me to get you some help?

Call somebody? Your girlfriend?

I'm gonna go to a meeting.

I just...

All this Coach Jones stuff has got me all...

I'm gonna go to a meeting. I promise.

And I appreciate the help.

You're a good friend, man.

Weller: I don't buy it.

Buy what? Roman's motives seem pretty clear to me.

What, he hauls Jane halfway to Canada because he wants her to get angry?

Yeah, why not?

Visual propaganda is an extremely powerful tool.

If he wants to show her a polluted lake, there's some a lot closer to Manhattan.

From Sandstorm's point of view, Jane's been brainwashed by her exposure to the FBI.

You guys know I'm standing in this room with you right now, right?

I looked up what happened there. Roman was telling the truth.

A poison lake that tore apart hundreds of families, while the government watched and did nothing, is not "visual propaganda."

It's an outrage.

I'm just saying none of this is your fault.

You don't owe him anything.

He needed a couch, I got a couch.

What's a day gonna hurt? What?

It's not gonna be a day, and you know it.

So, we all know that the honeycomb pattern on Jane's right hand is made up of two subtly different shades of ink.

Last night I was teaching my Girls Who Code students when I started to think about what these two shades would look like to a computer.

Ones and zeroes.

Yes, Girl Who Codes.

When you follow the pattern of each shade, it snakes its way around the tattoo.

If you count every left turn as a one and every right turn as a zero, it translates into two correlating messages.

And the first one translates to...

3216-219.

So the numbers translate into more numbers.

That's not just any number.

That's a Homeland Security employee ID.

For analyst Bo Kaier, to be exact.

Office of Infrastructure Protection.

You said two correlating messages.

Yeah, well, if you follow the second line on the honeycomb pattern, it translates to "Shadowcat."

Wait, this Kaier guy is the Shadowcat?

Somebody wanna fill me in?

Online handle for a hacker on the Dark Web.

He reached the White House servers, naval intelligence, even the Pentagon's internal networks.

So someone responsible for protecting our infrastructure was using their position to undermine it.

Let's bring him in.

I'll get you an expedited warrant.

(tires screech)

Reade, go around the back.

On it!

(explosions popping)

I found the servers.

He's using thermite to destroy the hard drives.

Suspect is armed.

Coming to you, Reade. Save those hard drives!

Copy.

Copy.

(zapping)

Uhh!

(g*nsh*t)

(both grunting)

Reade. Reade!

Reade!

Uhh!

Reade, enough of that! Enough!

Enough!

Turn over. Turn over!

Put your hands behind your back.

Bo Kaier, you're under arrest.

Get on your knees and stand up.

Walk.

Patterson: Thanks to Jane and Zapata, these hard drives were more singed than slagged.

I was able to access a good portion of Shadowcat's main database.

What's this? His video game collection?

Patterson: Yes and no.

Kaier has modified commercial video games to simulate some of the most secure buildings in the country.

The "objective" in each mod is to heist something.

Ebola vaccines, nuclear materials, w*apon prototypes.

Reade: This is the CDC in Atlanta.

There was a robbery there last year.

Thousands of Ebola vaccines were stolen.

So Kaier's recreating heists.

No, this file was created before the crime happened.

So the game is a training simulator for robberies.

Exactly... Kaier's using his classified access to obtain security measures, then selling off these foolproof plans disguised as playable mods.

But how much can a video game really teach you?

I mean, that's actually a very controversial question.

'Cause a lot of people would argue that video games are actually...

The mods are insanely detailed.

Number of guards and their weapons, security cameras, locked doors, police response and procedures.

Right. So that's why none of the teams were ever caught.

The body counts might have had something to do with it, too.

Yeah, four dead at the CDC. Three at a gallery in Miami.

Six at Monera-Gen.

So Kaier's got a lot of blood on his hands.

And he could have a lot more.

We found some new mods, too, all located in different cities.

Heists that haven't happened yet.

Dozens of 'em.

We don't know when or where.

We're still uncovering the data from the damaged drives.

Weller: We better find out.

Otherwise, the body count's gonna be a lot higher.

♪♪

Patterson and Zapata have cracked a couple of the mods.

But, can we quickly talk about Reade, please?

The guy had a g*n.

Reade did what he had to do to make the arrest.

He broke a suspect's orbital bone.

Something is going on with your agent.

He should sit this one out.

No. He shouldn't.

That is my team, and that is my call to make.

So make it.

Let's go and see what Patterson's got.

We're still recovering fragments from Kaier's hard drives, but I was able to extract the last plan Shadowcat sold.

Looks like a heist plan for New York.

Judging from the partial maps and antiquities appearing in the game, I'm pretty sure it's the Aebly Museum of Art.

Any idea what they're targeting?

Unclear, but we've narrowed down the when.

The game showcases wait staff serving drinks.

They only do this during museum events.

So, when's the next event?

It's two days from now.

Fundraising gala. Guest list is over 200 people.

The museum changes exhibits next week.

It's a good time to steal something before it moves on to the next city.

And the security roster during daytime events is a lot lighter.

Well, the party'll give the thieves plenty of ways to blend in.

Then we do the same.

We go into this event undercover.

If the heist crew shows up, we're there to stop them.

I'll recover what I can from the mod, see if I can get a clearer picture of what they're after.

Good.

Reade. Can I talk to you for a second?

The guy clocked me in the face. I was defending myself.

Forget it... is there something else going on with you that I should know about?

Like what?

I'm just sayin'.

If you wanna take a few days...

I'm good, really.

All right.

I'm gonna hold you to that. (pats his shoulder)

(approaching footsteps)

Do you need a hand?

Uh... sure.

There you go. All set.

Thank you.

We're gonna need these.

Oh, heh. Are we playing a married couple again?

No.

Inner ear comms.

So that we don't tip anyone off we're crashing the party.

Thanks.

(soft classical music)

Museum security has been put on alert.

Got a lot of ground to cover.

Naz and Patterson, you're on the first floor.

Jane's on second with me.

Reade, Tasha, start on the top floor.

Work your way down.

Sucks for you two.

You're gonna miss the Alexander Calder exhibit.

I'm sure you'll tell us all about it.

We're not here for the art.

So, everyone, keep your eyes peeled for something or someone suspicious.

(son clinking on glass)

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming.

Every penny we raise tonight goes directly to clean water initiatives all over the world.

Even some right here in our backyard.

So grab another drink.

Get ready to donate way more than you should.

(crowd chattering)

Zapata: Possible suspect. Male, 30s.

Headed to a closed exhibit on the west end.

Headed your way.

Zapata: The exhibit's closed.

Get out!

Reade: Let's go.

Move.

False alarm, Weller.

Weller: Copy.

Stay on them, just in case.

Zapata: Copy.

Haven't seen you at these events before.

It's my first one.

Well, let me be the first to say welcome.

Oliver Kind.

Jane.

So, are you here with someone?

Or just happen to have a passion for fine art and potable water?

Uh, kind of all three.

Well, if there's anything you'd like to know about the exhibit, or the clean water initiative, or which bartender here makes the best martini, just let me know.

Actually, I do have a question.

What are you doing, Jane?

Just keep moving.

I, uh... I've been doing some reading on Lake Aurora.

The BLC chemical leak back in the '60s.

Yeah. Was it really as bad as they say?

No. No, from what I remember, it was much worse.

That contamination happened 50 years ago and the region's still struggling to recover.

Mm, that's awful.

Well, lucky we're not learning anything from our mistakes.

That was a joke.

Oh... I know.

So... why were you reading about Aurora?

Weller: Ahem, sorry to interrupt.

Um, Jane.

There's someone in the Aztec Room I'd love you to meet.

Hi, Oliver Kind.

Very good.

Let's go.

My brother isn't great with people.

Right.

It was nice meeting you.

Well, why don't we pick this up later?

What was that about?

Blending in.

Just focus on this mission.

(beeping)

Hey, my techs just recovered more parts of the museum mod.

The basement's integrated into the game, too, not just exhibit floors like I thought.

Maybe they're after something in storage.

I'm gonna check it out.

Weller: We'll meet you down there.

Hey, I'm in the basement.

I'll hold the floor until we can get security down here.

(gagging and grunting)

Weller: FBI!

Put her down!

Patterson... Hey, hey!

(coughing)

You okay?

Yeah. Go.

Go, go, go, go, go.

Suspect is heading up the west stairwell.

Suspect is a black female wearing a black dress.

Short brown hair.

She's gone back in the museum.

Naz, get museum security to lock down every exit.

She could be on the run now that she's been made.

Naz: On it.

Damn.

I want everyone to search for anyone that's matching that description.

Or any accomplices that could be helping her.

Naz: Copy that.

Copy.

Copy.

Patterson: I'm in the security office.

Trying to find her on the cameras, but woman in a black dress doesn't exactly set her apart from this crowd.

Keep me updated.

We've got a body. Female, late 30s. Southeast wing.

Okay, change of plans.

Start moving the guests into secure rooms.

Use the guards.

Do it now.

On it.

We need to get these people to a secure location.

Okay, right away.

Ladies and gentlemen, please stay calm and follow me.

Any luck, Patterson?

No... (coughing)

She must have been using a camera scrambler.

All of the feeds around the stairwell went out before she exited.

Weller: No sign of her anywhere else?

Shadowcat's mod must have taught her every place the cameras don't see.

I got nothing.

Wait, she's using the scrambler again.

She's headed to the Eye of Man exhibit, second floor.

Reade: Headed there now.

Zapata: There, up ahead.

Black female, short brown hair.

FBI!

Hands where I can see them!

Don't move.

What's going on?

Don't move!

Zapata: She's clean.

Zapata: He had a scrambler.

man: That is not mine!

Turn around.

Don't move.

Do you have any weapons on you?

No!

Reade.

Do you have any weapons on you?

That's enough!

I saw this couple a half-hour ago, okay?

They're clean. Weller... she must have planted the scrambler on a guest to lure us in another direction.

Take him downstairs. I'm gonna continue searching.

Who the hell is this woman?

You don't have to do this. Let's talk.

Please. I can make this right.

It's too late for that.

(grunting)

(door handle rattles)

Another victim.

I'm evacuating the building and calling in NYPD.

I've got eyes on her.

She's going into the photography exhibit on the southeast wing.

She's not here.

There's no other exits.

Where'd she go?

(beeping)

Uh, wait.

The game mod shows that there's an exit through a sign on the east wall.

It's a dumbwaiter. Which room does it go to?

Uh, right up to the Asian Art wing.

I'm there now.

(both grunting)

Uhh!

Uhh!

♪♪

Jane. You okay?

I'm okay. It was just a flash-bang.

Come on. Come on.

(grunting)

Weller: Team, let's have a lockdown on the west end of the building... now.

I think it's too late for that.

She's gone.

We pulled DNA from the oxygen mask and also found a partial print on an artifact the suspect used to att*ck Jane.

The system's looking for a match as we speak.

Do we know where she came from?

The sarcophagus is part of an upcoming exhibit on loan from the Coptic Museum in Cairo.

The day before it was shipped, Egyptian customs reported a break-in.

The guard was drugged and left unconscious.

And no one there flagged it?

They did a security check, and it came up empty.

Nothing went missing.

Who's gonna think to look inside a 4,000-year-old coffin for a stowaway?

That woman specifically targeted this gala. Why?

I've ID'd the two victims.

This is Bridget Taylor, and Michael Murphy, an art scholar and a restaurateur, both with ties to East Africa.

So the game mod wasn't a blueprint for a heist.

It was for a hit.

And she might not be done yet.

We might have forced her to flee before she was finished.

I'm IDing the guest list, trying to see if there are any more connections to East Africa.

Let me know as soon as you have something.

Where's Reade?

You're suspending me?

No.

I just want you to talk to Borden before you go back in the field.

The guy a couple days ago had a g*n.

He was resisting arrest.

You broke his face, Reade.

And Naz is telling me that you roughed up some old guy at the museum.

Who's this order coming from, you or her?

It's not a suspension.

I'm just worried about you.

That supposed to make me feel better?

Talk to Borden.

(engine rumbling)

(door slams)

(door creaks)

Where's the rest of it?

This is only half of what we needed.

The seller couldn't come up with the rest.

That's unacceptable.

Believe me. He got the message.

We just have to postpone until we can get the rest.

No... we need to strike while they're still playing catch-up.

I'll talk to some of our other suppliers.

See what we can come up with.

Why did you take your sister to Lake Aurora?

You're keeping tabs on me now?

Stop giving me reasons to.

I'm worried we're only showing her the worst of us.

That's not your call to make.

She's forgotten you, forgotten me, forgotten why we're doing this in the first place!

I wanted to show her what she's making all these sacrifices for.

Where it all started.

Did you tell her everything?

No, but you need to.

How can you expect her to claw her way back here if she's got nothing to hold onto?

What do you got?

Aren't we gonna wait for Reade?

No. What do you got?

Uh... we got a hit on a partial print.

Zapata: That's definitely her.

The suspect's name is Elizabeth Gubara.

A Sudanese national with ties to a terror group responsible for several att*cks from Kenya to Yemen.

Jane: Are they active in the US?

Naz: Not until now... Gubara is the first confirmed member of the group to cross our borders.

All right, have we got any leads on other potential targets?

Yes, Charles Kessler. He was also at the gala.

He's a State Department suit who's been coordinating relief efforts throughout the horn of Africa.

So we cross-referenced his travel history with the two victims.

Several of his itineraries line up perfectly with theirs.

So they all knew each other.

But the question is, what did they do to end up in Elizabeth's crosshairs?

Where is Kessler now?

His phone's off and his office doesn't know where he is.

All I have is a home address.

Keep trying to reach him.

We gotta find him before Elizabeth does and we got another dead body on our hands.

Weller: FBI!

Put your w*apon down. Put it down!

Completely surrounded. And no other options.

Put it down.

Put it down!

I checked the perimeter. She's alone.

Give me your hands.

(handcuffs snapping)

Was Kessler the last target?

What's your cell's mission?

These isolated att*cks, or part of a bigger plan?

There is no cell.

I'm CIA!

♪♪

Edgar, I understand that you'd rather not be here, but Assistant Director Weller has asked me to evaluate you before you resume active duty.

I've got nothing to say.

I was told that you broke a suspect's orbital bone two days ago.

How many times do I have to say this?

He had a g*n, and he was resisting arrest.

I also looked over your record.

You've never injured a suspect in custody before, not once.

And now, you've injured two.

The old man got a couple of bruises.

I hardly call that "injured."

You asked me recently about repressed memories.

You said it was for a case.

Was it?

No.

Have you recovered a memory of trauma?

I've been trying to put together a case against Coach Jones.

The football coach from Hudson, hm.

The one accused of...

Yeah, I went to his camp as a kid.

A friend of mine, Freddy, was one of his victims.

Freddy told me I was one of his victims, too.

But you don't remember?

No.

I remember pizza parties, practices...

There's also some gaps there, big ones... where I don't remember much of anything.

Well, childhood trauma can affect the way the brain stores memories.

Young victims of abuse often cope by disassociating from the event.

Which means that the memories of the abuse are forgotten and often only recalled much later in life.

But I don't recall them.

But you do recall the gaps.

Now, I can't help but think that the fear and frustration of not knowing is precisely what's causing these sudden, uncontrollable bouts of anger.

I... I just want answers.

And hopefully, I can help you get them.

But I need you to know there is always a chance that you will never know for certain what did or didn't happen to you.

And sometimes that's the hardest part.

I was deep cover.

Infiltrated a t*rror1st camp in Northern Sudan for over three years.

Charles set up my cover.

Still no luck tracking down Charles.

Patterson said she'd let us know if she gets a hit.

Jane: Was Charles your handler?

Since my first year out of Langley.

And what about... Michael Murphy?

Bridget Taylor?

Agency go-betweens.

They were supposed to be using the intel I was getting to dismantle the terror network.

Instead, they were using it to turn profit.

Why not just report them to their superiors at the CIA?

I tried. About a year ago.

Charles got wind of it, b*rned me with the agency.

Wiped my identity from the system. It was like I never existed.

Couple clicks, I was on my own.

Went from playing a t*rror1st to actually being one.

And you had... no one else to go to?

No family?

Just my husband.

I tried reaching out to him and... they k*lled him.

And my daughter.

Meridia.

(crying) She was 14.

I'm gonna go check on something.

Weller: If they k*lled your family a year ago, why wait until now to go after them?

Charles b*rned me.

He outed me to the terror cell.

They held me c*ptive for nine months.

But you escaped.

Just barely.

When I finally got to safety, I started planning my next move.

I knew Charles, Michael, Bridget... used the museum charity gala as their annual meeting.

Weller: What are your people saying?

Is she really an operative or not?

There's no record of her working for either directorate to the CIA, or any other intelligence agency.

Well, that doesn't mean anything.

Yeah... she said they'd erased her.

There's no record of my time in the m*llitary, or of my t*rture at that black site.

This is different.

She would have been part of sanctioned CIA operations before being b*rned.

There'd be a paper trail of some kind, but so far, we've found nothing.

Then you need to look harder, because she's telling the truth.

(phone buzzing)

It's Patterson.

She's got something.

Turns out the two victims' travel and investment portfolios were backed by shell companies that siphon money from government accounts.

Definitely not an art scholar or a restaurateur.

So Elizabeth was right. They're all spies.

It looks like it.

And Charles Kessler's State Department job is a classic official CIA cover.

Vague, boring job title, vague, boring job description.

Any luck tracking him down?

He hasn't used his cell phone or his credit card since the museum, and no hits on any of his vehicles, either.

He's laying low.

Well, probably smart when a trained k*ller with a grudge is after you.

When Elizabeth mentioned that she had a daughter, I remembered something I saw on the laptop we took from Charles's house.

Who's the girl?

No idea, that's why I wanted to check it out.

But, according to his records, he doesn't have a daughter.

My God. That's Meridia.

How is this possible?

They sent me photos from the morgue. A death certificate.

They must have faked them.

Weller: We pulled some school records for a girl named Anne Sturz.

She transferred to a school in Queens around the same time that you said your daughter was k*lled.

And before that, Anne Sturz didn't exist.

Zapata: Charles basically put Meridia into his own personal witness protection with no connection to you.

Why would he take her at all?

Because Meridia is his daughter.

Care to elaborate on that?

It was my first op... Bogota.

Charles and I had an affair.

I got pregnant.

I never told him or my husband the truth.

Apparently Charles figured it out.

That certainly explains why he kept her alive.

Charles was a family friend Meridia's entire life.

She'd have no reason not to trust him.

If Meridia's with Charles, he won't just be laying low.

No... he'll be trying to get Meridia as far away from her as possible.

Please, you have to find her.

Once we took the search parameters off Charles and focused on the daughter, we got a hit.

Not a lot of 15-year-olds are taking last-minute flights out of the country.

A private jet to Mexico City out of Teterboro was just hired by a Larry and Sophie Morris, but it was paid for by the same shell company that was paying Michael and Bridget.

Flight leaves in less than an hour.

Let's move.

(jet engine humming)

(police siren blaring)

Get in the car and get down.

I'm not gonna let them hurt you.

(tires screeching)

Weller: FBI! Show me your hands!

(g*nshots)

(sobbing) Daddy!

Weller: Meridia!

You can come out now!

We're FBI! It's safe to get out of the car.

Duck!

Down!

What do we do?

(g*nshots)

We can't return fire on a 15-year-old.

Meridia! We're here to help!

Yeah, I don't think she believes us.

Weller: Meridia!

Stop sh**ting at us so we can talk!

You mean so you can sh**t me, like you sh*t my dad?

Look, we're here to bring you to your mom.

She wants to see you.

My mother's dead!

(g*nsh*t)

No, she's alive.

She's at our office right now, Meridia.

You're lying!

Weller: No! We're not!

She's alive!

(g*nsh*t, shattering glass)

(grunts)

Your mother risked her life so she could see you again.

Then where is she?!

My dad told me she was dead! He showed me photos!

I'd be dead, too, if he didn't hide me from people like you!

Why would he lie to me? He loved me!

I know... this doesn't make any sense right now.

But it is possible to lie to someone and still love them very much.

(panting)

Jane... Jane.

Look... I know this is all very confusing.

And it's...

It's hard to know what's right or wrong and who's telling the truth and who isn't.

But if there's even a chance that your mother's alive...

...wouldn't you want to know for sure?

Put the g*n down.

Okay?

Let us take you home.

That's right.

It's okay.

All right.

I want to see my mom.

Okay, we can do that.

All right. Here we go.

See?

Come on.

♪♪

(sobbing)

Doesn't seem right.

We bring her in, just so she can watch her mother get marched off to prison.

Patterson contacted Meridia's grandmother.

She's gonna take her.

I wonder what kind of life she's gonna have.

Everyone she's ever loved has lied to her.

You don't get over that.

This is exhausting.

You don't trust me. They don't trust me.

And if I'm being honest, I don't trust the FBI.

And I don't trust Sandstorm, so I'm stuck here in the middle with no one...

J-Jane... I didn't mean that.

Yeah... you did.

(pager beeping)

I have to go.

(knocking)

Oh... Freddy, right?

Y-Yeah.

Do I know you?

I'm Reade's partner.

Is he here?

Hasn't been back all day.

Are you having a party?

Just saying good-bye to some old friends.

I know you've been through a lot.

But this is a hard time for Reade, too.

Maybe you should find somewhere else to work through this.

Not a problem.

Say good-bye for me, will you?

(phone ringing)

(car alarm chirps)

Is it true?

What are you talking about?

You know what I'm talking about.

If what those two boys said is really true, I'll find out, I'll find you, and I'll put you away myself.

Can I come in?

Not if you're gonna say something that's gonna stop me from enjoying this scotch.

I was hoping you'd pour me one.

What?

I'm still trying to decide whether that's gonna stop me from enjoying the scotch.

Well, why don't you pour while you think.

What are we doing here?

Wanted to show you this.

My family practically lived in that lake.

My brother and I learned how to swim before we could walk.

We'd fish, catch our dinner.

Go skinny-dipping at night.

It was like growing up in the Garden of Eden.

Until we started to get sick.

My mother was first.

And quick.

My father d*ed much more slowly.

And after a lot of years in pain.

When my brother... was 25...

...they removed a tumor the size of a... a baseball from his lung.

We thought he'd b*at it.

He didn't.

I survived.

But, at 17... they removed my ovaries.

When I found you two in South Africa, I thought I was saving your lives.

But the truth is... you saved mine.

Before we wiped your memory, we all agreed that you shouldn't know anything but what was operationally necessary, but... we were wrong.

(sniffles)

You need to know us.

Where we came from.

Where you came from.

Lake Aurora.

That was... the beginning.

And what we're about to do... will be the end.

♪♪

man: Get out!

I just need a second.

man: I'm not talking.

I don't need you to talk, I need you to listen.

I've got a job for you. Off the books.

So what do you say, "Shadowcat"?

You interested?

That's why I always like to be the first one through the door.

Adrenaline junkie.

Yeah, no.

Maybe.

I can't expect anyone on my team to do something that I wouldn't do myself.

And, when it comes down to it, I'd rather it be me than one of them.

Control freak.

Wait a min... Why do you do that?

What?

Take something good, and see the bad in it.

I'm just analyzing the raw data.

And what about you?

You seem pretty fearless out there.

I'm a Pakistani-born Hindu woman working in American intelligence.

I had to be fearless, or...

I'd never make it up the ladder.

Hindus can drink?

Hindus can do a lot of things.

But I'm only about as much Hindu as you are Catholic.

How'd you know I was Catholic?

I'm NSA, I know everything.

Except for how to mind your own business.

(giggles)

What else do you know about me?

What's that Kurt Weller file look like?

I thought you said you want to enjoy that scotch.

Now you have to tell me.

No, this... this, you should see.

I never met our informants inside Sandstorm, only communicated through a series of dead drops.

They gave us solid intel but claimed to not have access to high-level planning details.

A foot soldier who grew a conscience.

Mm, something like that.

But about six months ago, they went dark.

But not before leaving one last message: that you are a major piece of Sandstorm's plan.

It's not much of a revelation.

My name is tattooed on Jane's back.

They used my connection to Taylor Shaw to control me.

Yes... but this goes deeper than that.

The source smuggled this out.

(m*llitary band playing)

Liberty m*llitary Academy.

♪♪

man on video: Cadet Kurt Weller.

♪♪

(sound shuts off)

Sandstorm's been watching you for over 20 years.