WOMAN: Mr. Bell!
I'm from the U.S. Attorney's Office.
They sent me over to make sure you didn't get lost.
After seeing you, getting lost may not be such a bad idea, (chuckles) I have a car waiting.
Fine.
(security door buzzing)
(grunting, yelling)
PRISONER: Get him off me, man!
(prisoner crying)
I'm not supposed to give my deposition for another hour.
So, if you're hungry, we could...
What... What are you doing?
I don't want to leave any fingerprints.
(silenced g*nsh*t)
FBI! Drop the g*n!
(g*nf*re)
AMITA: Ugh! You're making such a mess.
Let me do it. Gee...
An exact 180-degree fold.
I guess that's what I should expect from a master of combinatorics.
Actually, I used to work at the Gap in high school.
Are you sure this is such a good idea?
Uh, yeah. Doing FBI work for years without any training being stalked, getting sh*t at -- more than once -- uh, I think it's a pretty excellent idea, actually.
What are they going to have you doing?
It's a little self-defense, some firearms training.
It's no big deal. It'll be good for him.
All right?
Did I hear something about firearms?
Uh, yes, Charlie is going through two days of FBI training.
His idea. What do you mean, my idea?!
It was because you've been asking me forever.
Wait a minute...
This does not mean that he gets to carry a g*n after this, right?
Uh, I don't know -- maybe some handcuffs.
Hmm, really?
(phone rings)
Eppes.
Don, U.S. Attorney's office just called.
Two RICO witnesses scheduled to testify in the same trial next week were just hit.
David and Colby went to pick up a third, ended up in a gunfight.
Okay, I'm on my way.
Hey, I got to go. So, uh, kick ass, all right?
CHARLIE & AMITA: Thanks.
COLBY: Nice. This guy dressed as a delivery man.
Obviously put a little thought into it.
An agent from OC I.D.'d him as a low-level gunman in the Albanian mafia.
What's up?
So we know they were looking for a guy named Reggie Smith, who used to run with the Bixel Street Boyz.
Made a deal with the U.S. Attorney's Office to turn against the leader of his own crew.
And the DOJ has been putting him up here for about a month.
He was supposed to testify along with the two victims.
Any idea where he is now?
Building manager said he took off this afternoon in a real hurry.
Right, well, if he thought he was next to get hit...
He's making tracks to get out of town while he still can.
All right, so we'd better get this guy's Smith's photo out to all the roll calls -- I mean, L.A. to Fresno.
If we don't find him, they will.
I got this off a traffic camera at 8th and Alameda.
Well, yeah, leather gloves -- I mean, it's like what, 70 degrees.
Kind of telling, huh?
Quantico has no facial matches.
Robin Brooks is in here, taking a dying declaration from the prisoner who was stabbed outside the courthouse.
I know things ended kind of weird for you, so, if it's too uncomfortable, I can take the lead.
I don't care. Uh...
Just check with Langley on this, though.
I think the Albanian assassin sounds more like their turf.
(clears throat)
Hey. Hey.
No idea you were back.
Well, I'm just, um, I'm going to try Langley again.
Nice to see you, Robin. You too.
We're building a major RICO case against Jarobi "J-Light" Taylor.
m*rder, robbery, extortion, kidnapping -- he's hit every offense on the list.
He runs the Bixel Street Boyz. I know who he is.
He's like the Don Corleone of the LA g*ng world.
The guy's so powerful, he can continue running his empire, even from prison.
We can't figure out how he's sending out orders.
And this guy's in Bixel too?
ROBIN: He committed two murders on J-Light's orders last year.
There's no guarantee the judge is going to allow his dying declaration.
Yeah, or if a jury's gonna even buy it.
Reggie Smith also worked as a triggerman for Bixel Street.
You find him, my chances of winning this case increase a hundred percent.
Well, I mean, the hits had to be pretty well orchestrated, so I wouldn't be surprised if there were a leak, you know, I mean, even in the DOJ.
Any information would've gone to J-Light's number two, Dwight "Heavy" Reddick, worked his way up through Bixel Street, one m*rder at a time.
He was paroled last year.
I need a list of computers and anyone who had access to J-Light's info, then.
You're talking about hundreds of people, thousands of e-mails.
It could take months to narrow that stuff down.
When did you get back?
A couple months ago, right after I wrapped that case in Miami.
Look, I don't want there to be any friction between us.
Don't worry about it.
Okay, here's the scenario:
You've just witnessed an armed robbery, multiple sh*ts fired.
Ready? Go.
Let me just... make sure I'm... Okay, I'm good there.
What are you doing, Eppes? This isn't driver's ed.
You're in pursuit!
Okay.
The siren, Agent Eppes.
You forgot your siren.
Yeah, so that's right, uh... where is that?
(short siren blast)
What...?
(thudding)
You just k*lled a mailbox. Keep your eyes on the road.
Radio -- you need to call in your pursuit.
Uh-huh. (clears throat)
Good morning.
This is Charles Eppes.
(sighs) I'm in pursuit of a... burgundy-ish, sort of... merlot-colored, um...
Well, what model of car would you say that is?
It's a Ford.
It really doesn't look like a Ford. Anyway, a Ford!
(tires squealing)
Look out!
(brakes screeching)
Hey... Speed Racer.
Can I borrow him for a minute?
Take the afternoon.
CHARLIE: So, how many people had access to the witnesses' information?
Um, about 50, but with all the e-mails and the correspondence, it's like thousands.
It's quality not quantity.
In this case, temporal link analysis will prove that.
How so?
Imagine an uncut diamond...
Ooh, that's not a problem.
When the diamond's discovered, it's a large uncut stone, under a microscope, the flaws and inclusions become visible.
To maximize profit, they have to cut the stone to remove the imperfections, so that the valuable and brilliant facets are revealed.
Similarly, temporal link analysis searches e-mail sent by users who have access to sensitive information.
It removes the bad ones, or the flaws, and reveals the ones that are of true value.
We're looking for an e-mail outside their job parameter?
Yeah, that's exactly it.
Eppes! You're up.
All right, I will call Larry and Amita, and they should be able to help you.
All right. Thanks, Charlie.
And, hey, um... you want to break into the turn, accelerate on the way out.
Okay, thanks.
(chuckles)
A watch like that must make you the man in charge, huh?
Two dead witnesses were supposed to testify against your boss.
Bitch and snitch, wind up in a ditch.
That's what happened to your delivery boy, Reggie Smith?
I wouldn't know anything about that.
But if a accident happens to befall on Reggie, it would be a damn shame.
Yeah, it would free me up to spend all my time going after Bixel Street.
(chuckles)
(chuckles)
You know you go against me in court.
There's none of these BS plea deals, right?
It's federal -- it's 25 to life.
You might want to be thinking twice about your plans to go after Mr. Smith.
Hey. COLBY: Hey.
So, Heavy's parole status prevented him from visiting J-Light in prison, but it didn't stop a guy named Levi Holt.
48 visits in 12 months.
Well, that's how he's passing the orders?
Thing is, this guy Holt's the invisible man -- no address, no license, no nothing.
And the phone number on the log?
Well, it traces back to a Los Angeles recreation center.
Wait, I know that place; that's where, uh, David volunteers.
Yeah, I don't think he's been by in a while, though.
Well, I'd say it's time.
COLBY: So that's the big bad Levi Holt, huh?
Maybe I should take a pass at this one alone.
What's this -- a black and white thing?
(chuckling) Actually... it's a smooth and a... unsmooth thing.
Checkmate.
That's ten dollars, B.
Levi Holt?
My friends know to call me Bishop.
Well, I'm Special Agent David Sinclair.
What exactly makes you so special?
I don't know.
I guess it's the fact that I talk to the dead.
Yep. Just today, I had two dead guys tell me a dude by the name of J-Light is responsible for their untimely demise.
According to this log right here, not a week goes by that you don't visit the man.
Is that a crime?
I'm giving you the courtesy of doing this here, okay?
Now, you want to have this conversation in my office, I'd be more than happy to call your mother.
If you've seen my mom, then I'm really looking at a psychic.
Kid, what do you and J-Light talk about every week?
Chess.
Chess?
J-Light gives me lessons so I'll stay sharp.
He says I'm some kind of prodigy.
He's the only one that's given a damn about me, so if you're looking to take him down, you're in the wrong place.
That was real smooth, Jay-Z.
Yeah... (sighs)
AMITA: With more than 5,000 DOJ e-mails connected to J-Light's trial, your idea of creating a semantic network of terms used in the training data set and matching them with their e-mail uses was brilliant.
When I'm stuck, I've always found the work pattern of a certain Englishman to be inspirational.
Sir Isaac Newton.
No, Sherlock Holmes.
"From a drop of water, a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without ever having seen or heard of one or the other."
But, yeah, Newton was pretty good, too.
Look at you guys.
This is kind of like when Captain Kirk used to beam down, and he would leave Bones and Chekov in charge.
No, actually, the chain of command went, uh, Commander Spock to Lieutenant Commander Scott to Lieutenant Sulu, and then, once, during season two, it actually went to Assistant Chief Engineer DeSalle.
Uh, we ran an analysis of all communications.
Then we ran a second program that looked for a break in the pattern of that user.
And, uh, user number zero-two-one-five-zero-two, stood out in stark contrast to all the others, by far, requesting the most information on all three witnesses.
You sure about this? Quite.
Why, is there a problem?
Okay, what is it about this office?
Hi.
We've got a problem.
Reggie Smith.
No. You.
I mean, you've been asking a lot of questions about the dead witnesses.
I'm the prosecuting attorney.
Way too many inquiries into their personal lives.
Hold on.
Are you really suggesting that I'm on J-Light's payroll?
We've got e-mails from your computer for information about prisoner transports.
One to LAPD, one changing Bell's train ticket, so he got here an hour earlier.
So, I mean, you tell me.
Don, we spent six months together.
You know me.
What are they doing? Don?
I need an official statement.
Go to hell.
Call me crazy, but Robin doesn't seem the type to give up years of public service for the dark side.
DON: Hey, look, you gave me the files.
Don't you think you might be a little bit biased because of your past relationship?
What am I supposed to do?
I don't know.
But I can tell you, after Colby, I never look at an investigation the same way.
(knocking on door)
David, what a nice surprise.
How you doing, Mr. Eppes?
Hey. You know, two gallons a day keeps the pipes clean.
Uh, no, this is not for me, it's, uh, for the toilet.
I'm recycling rainwater.
The new system holds up to 1,200 liters.
Oh, by the way, if you're looking for Don or even Charlie -- I can't help you.
Actually, I need... you.
Me?
How long does it take to learn how to play chess?
Years.
I only have this afternoon.
Well, I guess we'd better get started.
Oh, uh, by the way, speed chess is just the name of the game.
It's not how long it takes to learn it.
Yeah.
Hey, so Gary Bell received a call.
It was from this number right here.
The phone was cloned.
Whoever k*lled him.
NSA has got this new technology where you can download media from a cell phone without the owner ever realizing, so we were able to pull down these two pictures that were sent to the k*ller's phone.
Bell.
And the next one's still a mystery, 'cause we weren't able to download all of it.
Yeah, you remember Charlie helped us find that plane with the shadows of the sun or something?
Yeah.
Eppes, you're up.
Prisoner escort.
Please follow me, sir.
(groans)
(chuckles)
Okay, buddy, walk it off, huh?
Paul, give me a second here. PAUL: No problem.
This is good. This is going, I mean I feel really good about the whole thing.
Yeah, I can see that.
Look, uh, do me a favor.
Think you can dial us into where this is?
Yeah. Yeah, uh...
Okay, so, supervised multiclass labeling.
Mm-hmm.
Picture a cadaver dog searching for a body.
If you give the dog a photo of the subject, that's useless.
But if you give the dog a piece of the subject's clothing, it's going to key off the scent.
SML algorithm works the same.
It looks for its own scent or information by scanning millions of images on the Internet and finding a match.
All right, great. So...
I'm going to need to call Amita and Larry again.
Hey, Eppes!
You done yapping?
You're up.
You got any advice for me here?
Yeah, just shake his hand and kick him in the nuts.
Same advice you gave me in elementary school.
Well, it worked then, right? Yeah.
Now, uh, this tactic is called a "pin."
By the way, who is your adversary?
Uh, it's a 14-year-old kid.
Uh... his mom d*ed, now he, uh, idolizes a g*ng leader.
Well, having raised two boys myself --
I can tell you that age, it's a difficult time for any teen.
I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Eppes, but I seriously doubt Don or Charlie ever had to, you know, wonder where their next meal was coming from, you know?
Yeah, well, the pressure to be a man, the need for guidance -- doesn't know any income brackets.
DAVID: Knight to C3.
Aah... Damn it.
At least it's not p*rn.
DAVID: That'd be Granger's computer.
Only on Saturday nights.
Oh, boy.
So, Robin Brooks' office subcontracts all their I.T. work.
I see right here she had her computer serviced six times in the past year.
Look at this: Five of the service calls were the same tech --
Angie Heath.
I can't believe the International Olympic Committee actually considers this a sport.
I can't believe you're this bad at it.
COLBY: Here we go. 4-5-9, we got a burglary.
Hey, look who she's arrested with.
Reggie Smith, our missing witness.
Says they're married, and divorced a year later.
Okay, so, Angie steals the information from Robin's computer, passes it to J-Light who orders the hit from jail.
Until her ex-husband becomes the next target.
She gets nostalgic, goes ahead and tips him off.
$50 says if we find Angie, Reggie Smith is laying right there next to her.
Well, last known address is a loft downtown.
The size of the entry wound, I'm betting that's a .22 caliber.
The same caliber that k*lled Bell.
Another contract k*lling.
Now, how did J-Light find them?
I don't know.
But you sh**t somebody in the kneecaps, you're making a point.
Oh, so you heard?
I don't care, Don.
Robin, come on.
I mean, what, you would've done the same thing.
No, I wouldn't have.
I would have thought about who you are, and trusted my gut.
And so would the Don Eppes I knew.
Here's the weird thing:
Angie Heath's last five phone calls, they were all to J-Light's top lieutenant, Heavy.
Now, why would she call the people trying to k*ll her?
What's that in her mouth?
That's a hundred-dollar bill.
Each one had one stuffed in their mouth.
I think it's a message of some kind.
No, they're tying to buy their freedom.
It's more like an answer.
DON (laughing): Whoa! Check it out.
CHARLIE: Hey.
We're doing dynamic entries.
That's when you break into a typical hostage situation.
Yeah, I think we know a thing or two about it.
Gave you a machine g*n, huh?
It fires paint pellets instead of b*ll*ts, but as I've learned, those can be very painful.
Especially when they get under your skin.
So, what can we do for you, Rambo?
Oh, right. I'm here because, um...
Whoa, whoa. Wait just...
Point it down. Just point it down.
Stupid thing.
Uh, Larry and Amita have found a match for your photograph.
Here we go.
Uh...
I don't know the significance, but it's somewhere in the Valley.
Wait, what, you're kidding. That's Robin's house.
What?
She's the next target.
(knocking on door)
DON: Hey, what do you say, Jim? JIM: Hi.
All right, I got it. I'll see you in a little while.
See you in a bit.
I remember we talked about spending a weekend someplace like this.
Didn't think it would be with an hourly changing of the guards.
With Smith dead, the only thing we got to convict J-Light is that dying declaration you took.
Which is a nice way of saying I'm next on the hit list.
Well, that's not going to happen.
So now you're on my side?
I don't choose sides.
Come on, you know that.
You can be a real bastard sometimes.
My shrink said something like that.
This shrink... has he taught you how to say "I was wrong" yet?
So, Gary Bell was the first witness k*lled.
Two people have I.D.'d this woman as walking with him minutes before he was sh*t.
Courtesy of Interpol -- her name's Coral.
She's a contract k*ller for the Albanian mob.
Well, I guess, with his own crew testifying against him, J-Light didn't want to trust the locals to do the job.
Which means we still have a professional hit woman running around town.
(footfalls)
(Charlie clears his throat)
Oh!
Oh. I take it the tactical as*ault didn't go too well.
According to my instructor, in the event of a firefight, my best course of action would be to get in a fetal position and call for my mama.
Well, that's rather ironic.
My flight instructor told me the same thing.
Thanks to my brother, the Eppes name has some reputation around the FBI.
Oh, rather, thanks to both of you.
And I don't want to tarnish either one of them.
I think I'm in over my head here.
I mean, some of these guys are animals.
How did he put it?
"Strength comes not from physical capacity, but from indomitable will."
Yeah, well, Gandhi never had to lead an HRT.
Mm, no.
I'm used to a certain level of success.
These guys are laughing at me.
You know, Charlie, think back now to when you were a 13-year-old freshman at Princeton.
There were plenty of your fellow students who were keenly jealous of you.
This your way of telling me I was hated?
(laughing) Well... no.
I mean, hated is a strong word.
(sputters quietly)
Uh, detested. (wry laugh)
But you won their respect.
You did, with your integrity, your kind soul, and most importantly of all, you were smarter than every single one of 'em.
Now, listen to me. You have a gift.
So, where does it say your brain must only be used for math?
Checkmate.
Are you for real?
Only one way to find out.
Okay. You can go first.
You're white. You go first.
It's the rules.
Right.
I knew that.
Come on, man. I got a life to lead.
Your move.
(sighs)
Checkmate.
It's your money. Let's go.
(scoffs)
All right...
Checkmate.
Had enough?
You know, my dad used to play chess.
Must not have been any good.
Actually, he was the, uh, champion of the Botanical Gardens.
It was kind of like the MacArthur Park in my neighborhood.
Maybe you ought to call him for some lessons.
Yeah, I wish I could.
My dad passed away when I was right about your age.
Better than him not being there at all.
Not easy being the man of the house, is it?
But, Bishop, part of being a man is taking responsibility for your actions.
J-Light is good with me.
I don't concern myself with his other stuff.
Ah, but you should, 'cause sooner or later, that stuff -- it has a way of catching up with you.
Okay?
All right, now, I looked at the security video from the prison.
That notebook you carry around...
Look, I need to know what's inside of it.
Chess.
Must be real lousy being you, never being able to trust anyone.
It's not true -- what you said before about not choosing sides.
You do it all the time.
That had nothing to do with us.
I mean, I'll give you -- you did mess me up pretty good.
Things get too close, I kind of got a habit of running.
That's funny. I thought that was my MO.
Maybe that's why we worked for a while.
All right, so, you know, what was it, ultimately?
You remember when I was sleeping over all the time, and you gave me that drawer?
Yeah.
The only thing you kept in it was a hair clip.
Well, I showed up for work one day and realized that I took the hair clip with me.
(Nextel crackles to life)
Hey, Don, it's Jimmy, here to relieve you.
Be at the door in two secs. Yeah, all right, Jimmy.
(sighs)
Well, I'll see you in a little while.
Nice!
Nice sh**ting.
275.
Highest yet.
Next group up.
Eyes and ears in place.
Line is hot.
Ready on the f*ring line.
(g*n clicks, target lines whirring)
I can't believe it.
296. High score.
How'd you do it?
Some kind of math formula?
"Fast is fine, but accuracy is final.
You need to learn to be slow in a hurry."
Wyatt Earp.
Your dinner is served, madame.
Your table.
Here you are.
Need to get the number for your shrink, thank him.
Voilà!
What's this?
Uh, that would be for you.
A hair clip.
Come here.
(Nextel chirps)
Ah.
Don, it's Jimmy. I'm outside the door.
Security is ready for you.
You got to be kidding.
I'm on the clock. What am I gonna do?
I got to walk the grounds with hotel security.
I will be back -- I promise, okay?
Oh, hey.
Oh, I'm so glad you guys are here.
Are you busy?
Oh, I'm just trying to find the existence of a massive scalar elementary particle, predicted to exist by the standard model of particle physics.
Cool. Well, when you're done, do you think you'll have time to look at this?
A list of m*rder victims.
Mm-hmm.
Who is J-Light?
Uh, the person who wrote the list, who ordered the murders from jail.
Well, he must have been monitored.
He is, so we think he's using a code.
David thinks he's passing the code to this kid while he's teaching him chess lessons.
AMITA: Well, the beautiful thing about chess is that both opponents know everything.
Nothing's hidden.
So within the lesson, perhaps the coded message lies.
If that's the case, can you cr*ck it?
I don't know. I mean, normally, we'd need a cipher, but..
Yeah, but in this case, we have the victims' names or the results, so by using backwards induction, we might be able to cr*ck it.
It's like the Rosetta Stone:
The same exact text is written in three different languages.
So, if you can understand just one, then you should be able to read the other two.
My algorithm will be looking for overlaps between the sets of data -- the victims and the chess lessons.
Then I'll translate the unknown code by comparing it to the known murders and their g*ng affiliations.
Great. Sorry to blow off those elementary particles.
Oh, anytime.
(door opening)
Help yourself.
I'm gonna go work.
Thanks.
(sniffles)
Robin, run!
(grunts)
(gasps)
(grunts)
3696. Need immediate assistance.
I've been stabbed.
Subject is a female Caucasian armed with a Kn*fe.
She's in pursuit of my protectee.
(panting)
(people chattering and laughing)
(party music playing)
(gasps)
Somebody help! Somebody help me, please!
(g*nf*re)
All right, all right. (gasps)
You all right?
Okay, come on, come on.
I got you.
I thought I was...
How did you find me?
I had a little help.
I don't understand.
Tracking device.
J-Light's not going to stop until...
He's not going to get you.
So I talked to the hospital; Jimmy's out of surgery.
He's going to be okay.
Kid got to you a little bit, huh?
Treating him like any other perp.
Yeah, but he's not.
I grew up with kids like him, you know?
I've seen the way this movie ends.
Doesn't sound like any other perp.
Okay.
You have all the answers, let's hear it.
(sighs)
Well, why don't you just stop pretending you don't give a crap and change the damn ending?
Hey. How's it going?
Welcome back. CHARLIE: Thank you.
Aah... please.
What? My ribs.
Sorry. Yeah, it's okay.
Ow. Oh.
Um, I just think I may have split my lip.
Okay.
What's that?
Oh, this is just a little certificate stating my marksmanship qualifications.
LARRY (quietly): Yay!
I am very impressed with you for doing this, Charlie.
Thank you.
So, dimensional data sets.
Each week, this man J-Light teaches his protégé Bishop a chess lesson.
Now, David thinks a code is maybe being passed within the lesson.
I've run a computer program to try to analyze all optimal chess moves, and... I still can't break the cipher.
Hmm.
CHARLIE: Well... in my FBI profiling seminar, we learned that the notion of "thinking like a criminal" is actually a misnomer because criminals are sociopaths, and in order to match wits with them, you actually have to think contrary to your normal thought process.
So we've been assuming that J-Light was teaching Bishop all the optimal moves when...
It may have been just the opposite.
Coral tracked Robin by the GPS on her Blackberry.
That's pretty smart.
Don has SWAT watching her 24-7.
Okay, so we figured out the code.
Or they figured out the code.
So each week, during their lesson, J-Light teaches Bishop one move or countermove for him to master.
When decoded, they reveal a direct order from J-Light.
Each of the 64 squares represents a different g*ng.
Now, the king's last position shows which g*ng was being targeted.
And the piece used to checkmate indicates how high in the organization.
For example, this lesson featured an att*ck on the black center by means of an E4 to D5 advance, indicating that a pawn, or low-level gangbanger, in the Midtown Highboys should be k*lled.
If we can figure out J-Light's next chess lesson, we can figure out his next hit.
Hey.
Game's over. You, get lost.
What's your problem?
Where's your notebook?
It belongs to me.
It's evidence that'll be used against you in your m*rder trial if you don't give it to me right now.
Look if you're trying to scare me, it's not going to work.
I'm not trying to scare you, okay?
I'm trying to help you.
I know what happens to kids like you.
Oh, so now you think me and you are from the same place?
Well, we ain't.
(both scoff) Yeah, you're right, because I grew up with a family that loved and supported me, so we're not the same, but you're also wrong -- 'cause I do care about you.
I want to see you become the man that I know you can be.
The man your father never was.
One day, me and this kid got into this thing at school.
I had to wait in the principal's office until my dad showed up.
He never did.
J-Light came instead.
And what about Heavy?
It never seemed strange to you -- his passion for your chess lessons?
Bishop, every time he reads your notebook, somebody else out here dies.
Now, come on, kid.
I am not that dumb... and you're way too smart.
DAVID (over phone): Second move, white, 2 to C4.
Okay, now I'm positive it's the Grünfeld Defense.
Uh, no, I'm positive it's Sicilian, I'm positive.
Where do you even see Sicilian? How can it possibly be...
It's the Nimzo-Indian Defense.
The proper reply is pawn to E6, freeing up the king's bishop.
David, this is gonna take a minute here.
CHARLIE: All right, I'll punch those variations in.
And I shall watch.
Here we go.
Bishop to B6.
And the proper response is...
So, the Bixel Street Boys.
That's J-Light's own g*ng.
Like a modern day Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, that boy is delivering his own death letter.
David, he's sending an order to k*ll Bishop.
Hey, let's go.
Up, let's go.
(car stereo blaring rap song)
(brakes screeching)
You stand right here, okay?
You don't move.
Yo, Bish. What up, Heavy?
What up, Bone?
Why didn't you come by with the book?
I've been waiting for an hour.
You have something to say?
Say it. FBI.
(laughs)
This ain't gonna end real good for you.
Walk away.
That's not gonna happen.
I said walk away.
What are you strapping?
A nine?
What's that?
15, 16 rounds?
Me and Bone right here, we're nice with the trigger.
Our gats are four times that action.
And homeboy's got plenty more in the car.
You'll be ghost in two seconds.
Well, you better hope so.
If I get off even one sh*t, it's going right between your eyes.
Well, I guess we're gonna have to find out then, huh?
Yeah, we're also gonna find out if you're ready to run, because after you k*ll a federal agent, ain't no corner on this man's Earth that's gonna be far enough for you to hide in.
Pull what you got, Heavy.
Bone.
Understand this -- you k*ll me right now, you might as well put that g*n to your own head.
(laughs)
All right, yo, we can do this another day.
But this ain't over, not by a long sh*t.
Remember this, 'cause you're gonna see it again real soon.
I look forward to that.
(short siren blast)
(police radio chatter)
AGENT: Let me see your hands! Put 'em where I can see 'em.
(chuckling)
DAVID: Might even be taking a picture of that face a little sooner than you think.
You okay?
Yeah, I'm all right.
♪ On the walls of the day ♪
♪ In the shade of the sun, we wrote down... ♪ DON: I mean, I can't say the weekend worked out exactly as I hoped, but...
I admit I had a rescue fantasy dream, but this was a bit much.
Thanks.
Oh, yeah? Was I in it?
You know, my trial starts on Monday, but maybe when things settle, you can find out.
Hey.
Technically, I mean, the FBI still owns the room.
We never did finish that candlelight dinner.
Yeah, it'd be a shame to waste the government's money, right?
Mm-hmm.
We're just going to be a little while longer.
Thanks.
Okay, everyone, watch your step.
ALAN: Watch my step?
I can't even see my step.
LARRY: I'm all for adventure, but the suspense is starting to k*ll me.
MEGAN: This from a man who lived a hundred miles above the Earth?
224 to be exact.
AMITA: I think it's exciting.
Okay. Who's first?
(snickers)
Nobody's money to take this afternoon?
Don't really feel much like playing.
Yeah.
Sometimes we're blind to the things that are closest to us.
I think you had it right the first time.
I shut my eyes on purpose.
It's not our mistakes that define us, Bishop.
It's what we do afterward that counts the most.
Mind if I give you some advice?
I have a say in it? No.
Way I see it, you have two options ahead of you.
Option number one -- you get tough.
Now, you're a smart kid.
Get your own crew, you make some money.
I guarantee you, you'll be dead and buried by the time you are 20.
What's choice number two?
Start choosing your friends just a little more wisely.
And you can start by teaching me... how to play some chess.
Friends don't take money from friends.
All right, good.
I'm going to lose it, anyway.
Okay, you need to start with the basics.
This is the pawn.
Hopefully you knew that.
All right, it moves up two spaces in the beginning move...
♪ "Be safe," you say... ♪