Whoa.
Oh, my God.
You approve?
- Absolutely.
- This is the best ta'ameya
I have ever had.
Who taught you how to make this?
Our nanny Yasmin.
She was like a second mother
to me.
Okay, well, next time
I'm gonna make you
my famous beid bel basturma.
Next time?
That's right, no strings,
no commitments.
- I forgot.
- Mm-hmm.
But, I wanna do something
for your birthday.
Oh, actually
I already booked myself
a decadent weekend
in Miami South Beach.
- Oh.
- Mm-hmm.
- Okay.
- Check out this view.
I booked myself three nights
in a bungalow,
all by myself.
Well, happy birthday.
You should come with me.
It's work. I got to go.
And I'm gonna need that back.
Okay, so let me
get this straight.
She's a gorgeous,
smart federal prosecutor
who also happens to be
a hip, modern Muslim.
All true.
What is your problem?
- I don't know.
- We're just different.
She comes from
all of this money,
and, I mean,
you should see her apartment.
Okay, but what does this
have to do with
taking a fun trip
to South Beach?
The bungalow cost $1,500.
Wait, per night?
- For three nights?
- Yeah.
Plus airfare, plus the massages,
plus the meals,
plus the salt treatments.
- What's a salt treatment?
- I have no idea.
But they're expensive.
Detective Harden,
we're agents Bell and Zidan.
I hear you guys
are calling dibs.
Federal land, federal crime.
There's no witnesses,
no evidence, no security video.
It's all yours.
Hammer. A crime of passion?
Or someone was channeling Thor.
We have an ID?
Brad Hughes, 42.
His Tesla's parked in the lot.
Found his laptop inside,
not much else.
What's his time of death?
M.E. puts it around 11:00
last night.
Well, he made a call
before that.
10:45.
Can I help you?
Elena Bondar,
I'm Agent Zidan,
this is Agent Bell.
Did you speak
with Brad Hughes last night?
Is there a problem with Brad?
Can we speak inside?
How long have you
and Brad been dating?
About three months.
I can't believe this.
He was such a good guy.
Why did he call you last night?
To say he wasn't coming over.
He had a lot of work to do.
Do you have any idea
what he was doing in the park?
Was he in any kind of trouble?
Money issues, stalkers,
ex-girlfriends?
All right, so Elena,
the girlfriend, said
our DOA Brad Hughes was going
through a contentious divorce,
so I was thinking, I dunno,
maybe should dig into that.
While we're at it,
let's look at the rest
of his life...
His career, his hobbies.
Who was this guy? Anyone?
Looks to me like he was
a rich investment banker.
Worked in mergers and
acquisitions for Sherman Swain,
a white-shoe firm
down on Maiden Lane.
No priors, no debts,
no lawsuits.
I pulled up his divorce records
Oh, goodie, how'd they read?
It's pretty ugly.
Wife, Lydia, cheated on him
with some construction worker.
For the past year or so,
there's been a major tug-of-w*r
over kids, assets, alimony.
Oh, in case you're wondering,
she was demanding 100K a month.
- I was.
- Well, now she gets everything.
Is her hardhat-wearing
paramour still in the picture?
Uh, yeah, looks like
he moved in with her.
Name's Cam Buckley.
He remodeled their home
14 months ago.
Oh, well, he must have
very nice tools.
Any priors?
One DUI, one aggravated as*ault.
Well, we have good tools
as well.
Let's use them to look
into our two lovebirds
a little more aggressively,
shall we?
Brad and I were married
for 10 years.
I hoped it would be forever,
but...
Well, what happened?
He was a workaholic.
Always traveling, preoccupied,
even when he was here,
he was gone.
I just... I couldn't keep
living that way.
So alone.
But I still loved him.
Very much.
The divorce filings paint
a pretty different picture.
Things get complicated
when money is involved.
Where were you
at 11:00 p.m. last night?
You don't think I had
something to do with this.
We have to ask you
these questions
in order to rule you out.
I was at an art opening in SoHo.
At Frenzino gallery.
Was Cam Buckley with you?
No, art really isn't his thing.
Do you know where he was?
Cam and Brad
weren't best friends,
but there is no way
he did something like this.
Ah, excuse me.
Hey, Jubal.
Hey we just ran Brad's phone,
recovered a text
he got yesterday.
It reads, "You're a dead man."
Sent to him by our boy
Cam Buckley.
Can we place him near the scene?
Why, yes, we can.
Oh, and we can also tie him
to the m*rder w*apon.
Hey, OA.
Cam is here now.
And he's rabbiting.
Maggie and OA lost visual
contact with the suspect.
We need eyes on this guy, fast.
- Any hits on the BOLO?
- Nothing.
What about Scarsdale PD?
- On the line with them now.
- They're low on patrol units.
Department's running
an active sh**t drill.
State Police, you need
to pick up the slack.
We ping Cam Buckley's phone yet?
Just turned it off,
but he was heading south.
Okay, White Plains is north,
so he's not headed home.
We need to check his phone log,
social media.
Who is he tight with
in the city?
Think I know where he's headed.
Go.
Cam docks a boat
at White Crest Marina.
- It's just nine miles south.
- There it is.
Send the details to Maggie
and OA.
There's his truck.
He's got to be here somewhere.
FBI, hands up!
- Guess what, Cam?
- You're under arrest.
I didn't k*ll Brad Hughes.
So why'd you run away?
Because I don't trust you guys.
Why is that?
I got a record;
I'm banging a dead guy's wife.
I know how this goes.
So what were you
planning on doing,
sailing off to Mexico
in your little dingy?
I was just trying to buy
some time, figure things out.
Okay, well, maybe you can
help us figure this out.
You sent a text
to Brad yesterday
saying, "You're a dead man."
And now here he is, dead.
That was just a text.
He got in my face,
told me to stay away
from his wife and kids.
That's the m*rder w*apon.
This is you from your website.
It's the same hammer.
Are you kidding me?
Tons of people have that hammer.
Yeah, but none of them
were near the park
when Brad was k*lled.
- You were.
- And your phone.
Pinged a cell tower
that puts you in the area,
so why don't you just tell us
what happened last night, Cam?
I didn't do this. I swear.
I wasn't even at the park.
So where were you?
I hooked up
with my ex-girlfriend.
She lives near there.
I thought you were with Lydia?
I am.
But sometimes I just wanna be
with my own people.
I love Lydia,
but I don't exactly fit
in her world.
You know how it is.
- So Cam's telling the truth.
- I talked to the ex-girlfriend.
She confirms they were together
from 10:00 p.m.
to 8:30 this morning.
There's video surveillance
confirming this as well.
Well, that puts us back
to square one.
Maybe not.
We just found an interesting
call on Brad's cell phone.
From the securities
and exchange commission.
He's a Wall Street guy,
why's that interesting?
Because the call came from
a lawyer named Douglas Wells,
head of
the Enforcement Division.
The investigation's ongoing,
so there's really
not much I can say.
Investigation into Brad Hughes?
We were just looking into
some suspicious trading
in a recent merger deal
he worked on.
Why, what's this all about?
Uh, Brad was m*rder*d
last night.
This changes everything.
We were probing
the PELLZ Aerospace merger.
Interviewing Hughes
was a formality.
At first,
until I got this message.
He left this message yesterday,
I tried calling him back, but...
Mr. Wells, Brad Hughes here,
following up
on the PELLZ merger,
I think I know who's
behind the illegal trades.
I'd like to meet
with you in person
to discuss the matter further.
Before they could meet up,
Brad wound up dead.
Someone k*lled him
to keep him quiet.
Mm-hmm.
So the victim, Brad Hughes,
reaches out to the SEC
regarding illegal trading
in a company called PELLZ.
He gets k*lled
before he can blow the whistle.
It sure looks that way, yeah.
So we have any idea
who's involved
in the illegal trading?
Well, Maggie and OA are
interviewing Brad's co-workers.
Scola is combing the SEC files,
recent trading activity.
- All right, keep me apprised.
- Yeah, will do.
Boss, can I show you something?
Why, Ian Lim, you know
you always have my ear.
What is it?
Brad Hughes' laptop,
I was checking his emails
and search history.
Then I noticed he scanned
for viruses a few days ago,
- and turns out, he found one.
- Okay, what kind of virus?
That's where
it gets interesting.
Peeked into the virus's code.
It is set up to scan
for documents, emails,
and seek out specific key words
like merger, buyout, takeover,
bear hug, tender offer...
So the virus was trolling
for insider information.
Yeah, then it scooped up
that info
and it emailed it out.
Can you figure out
who received that email?
If I can't, no one can.
I like your confidence.
Hey, you guys look like you
got something for me.
What is it?
So we tracked
the trading history
of PELLZ common stock.
One trade stood out,
a $20 million purchase
just before the merger
was announced,
then sold the next day.
Who made the trade?
It's unclear.
It was handled through
a small brokerage house.
Run it down.
Okay.
This make you homesick?
- No.
- Hm, not even a little?
- Moved on.
- Okay, so why'd you quit?
The allure of government service
and undersized paychecks.
Trey Neely?
Whoa, is that real?
- It is.
- And, uh, we'd like to talk.
No, man, it doesn't ring a bell.
I mean, it was, like,
10,000 trades ago.
Are we done?
I'm losing money standing here,
bro.
All right, look, bro,
you're a junior trader
at a rinky-dink bucket shop.
$20 million is the biggest trade
you've ever seen.
Which you turned around and sold
at near double the price.
And your 3% commission, well,
that's the biggest commission
you've ever pocketed,
so let's try this again.
Who told you to make that trade?
Who's the person behind LIG?
Lovecraft Investment Group.
I'm done here, guys.
You really wanna do this?
You wanna play hardball
with the FBI?
Why don't you ask around,
see how well that works
for other guys on Wall Street.
Okay, okay. Slow down.
Who told you
to make the PELLZ trade, man?
I don't know, I swear.
It was all done through
bank wires and phone calls.
Well, who'd you talk to?
A voice on the phone.
Man or woman?
A woman, she told me
to transfer the money
to a bank in Houston, so I did.
I want every file,
every call log,
every detail on those trades.
Now.
It's greed.
You hated being around people
talking about money
and trades, commissions.
No, I didn't mind that at all.
I like money.
Mm-kay.
Okay, so Certitrade ex*cuted
a 20-million-dollar trade
in PELLZ stock on behalf
of a shell corp called LIG.
A day later,
through the miracle
of modern capitalism
Certitrade sold their position
for 34 million,
transferring the funds
to a Houston bank.
So let's dig in
and find the person behind
that shell corp, shall we?
Unfortunately the person
behind the shell corp
is another shell corp.
Mm, what about the 34 million?
Let's follow that.
I'm trying to,
but it only stayed in Houston
for less than one second,
then ping-ponged through
a bunch of off-shore banks.
And let me guess,
ended up in the Cayman Islands.
Close. Nevis.
Nevis?
According to my friend
in White Collar,
it's the new black.
Latest hotspot
for private banking.
So a warrant will do
nothing for us,
which means
we're dealing with pros.
Ian, where are we on the virus?
Where did all
that information go?
I couldn't trace the recipient.
The docs were sent via Tor
and they disappeared
into the void.
Void is a dirty word.
Tell me there's more
to that story.
There is.
Virus was installed
two weeks ago today
at exactly 10:21 p.m.
Good.
So if we find out
where Brad was...
We may find the virus donor.
You're back.
Yeah, Brad made
a credit card charge that night.
11:10 p.m. for $342
at a trendy restaurant
called Treasure.
Yes, Mr. Hughes reserved
a table for 10:15.
Table 23. That one.
Was he with anyone else?
I'm sorry, I didn't work
that night.
Do you have security footage
going back two weeks,
by any chance?
I can't share that with you.
Our clients value their privacy.
Brad Hughes doesn't.
He's dead.
If we see the video,
we might be able to figure out
who k*lled him.
- Okay.
- Let me talk to my manager.
Maybe he logged onto a website,
downloaded a virus accidentally?
- Do you have Wi-Fi here?
- Yes.
Someone coulda hacked him
through the network.
No, wait, he's got a visitor.
It's his girlfriend, Elena.
Mm-hmm.
See if you can punch in.
Wait.
So she's the infector?
And I'm guessing
our inside trader, too.
So much for the grieving
girlfriend routine.
Elena Bondar, arrived here
a year ago from Albania
on an H-1B3 visa.
Her sponsor was
World Capital Talent.
It's a modeling agency in SoHo.
Now, you might remember
that Brad Hughes,
our victim, was romantically
involved with Elena.
Color me jaded,
but I'm getting the feeling
she was more in love
with the non-public information
on his laptop
than his wit and good looks.
Now Brad is dead.
Elena's our person of interest.
Whoever helps
track her down gets
the most valuable agent award.
We just checked her apartment.
- Yeah?
- She's not there.
But a neighbor saw her
with a suitcase,
waiting for a car.
Yeah, well... Ian,
what do you got, her phone?
No, that's been shut off
for hours,
but last night around 9:00,
she took an Uber to
125 Cherry Street in Tribeca.
Who lives there?
Guy named Matt Armand,
investment banker.
Look, Matt,
we know Elena visited you
at your place in Tribeca
last night,
so why don't you just go ahead
and tell us
what you two talked about?
What's your interest in Elena?
You know, this process
tends to go a lot better
when we're the ones
asking the questions.
Well, I tend to work better
when I have the answers.
Good data, good results.
Let me guess, some blowhard
with a fancy MBA
and a black Amex card
told you that
your first week on the job?
I worked here, too.
First job out of college.
But you see, we're not building
a discounted cash flow model
here, Matt.
We're investigating a m*rder.
I don't know anything
about that.
But I know my rights.
I can decline to answer
your questions.
You certainly can,
and we can certainly
investigate any and all people
connected to
an ongoing criminal
investigation.
Which means we'd be forced
to subpoena your phone records,
emails, texts, late-night
home alone internet searches,
and, of course, your finances.
Okay, okay.
Take it easy.
Elena and I used to date.
Great, where is she?
In the Hamptons.
She came by last night, on edge.
Thought somebody
might be following her,
so I gave her the keys
to my place out east.
That's all I know.
I swear.
What's the address?
22 Swan Lane, Wainscott.
Thank you, Matt.
Oh, and if I were you
I'd look into
my most recent public deals.
There might be
some suspicious trading.
What are you talking about?
Elena was dating another banker.
Stole inside information
from him.
Yeah, well, that has nothing
to do with me.
Right, 'cause you're special.
Please leave.
Okay, now I know.
It's the arrogance.
All those smug, elitist bankers.
Nope.
All right,
22 Swan Lane, Wainscott.
I'll drive.
Are you just a control freak
or do you hate my driving?
Uh, both.
Oh, excuse me.
- Hi.
- Omar.
- I'm Mona Nazari.
- Maggie Bell, OA's partner.
- Hi, it's so nice to meet you.
- I've heard so much about you.
He talks about you all the time.
I wouldn't say all the time.
Okay, fine.
A lot of the time.
So what are you doing here?
Status meeting
with Organized crime
on that mob case
I was telling you about.
We've been investigating
these guys for years.
Maybe one of these days I'll
actually get to prosecute them.
I have to run.
Really nice meeting you.
Nice meeting you, too.
Mona seems amazing.
She is.
Maybe too amazing.
Too amazing?
That doesn't exist.
I'm not so sure about that.
Well, just go on the trip,
stop overthinking it.
It'll be fun.
- I don't know.
- I know it sounds stupid
but I... I don't know,
I feel uneasy
around people with money
and pedigree.
That's not stupid. I get that.
I'm just a small town gal
from Indiana.
You know, I had to fight my way
through the side door.
You're a fancy Army Ranger.
I mean, God,
you went to West Point.
You speak perfect Arabic.
I mean, you're the guy that
they recruit for the poster.
I feel like a poor kid
from Queens when I'm with her.
Look, I don't care
how amazing Mona is,
she's lucky to be dating you.
Don't ever forget that.
I think we're getting close.
The house Elena's staying
in is right up here.
Elena!
Hey, we're the FBI, stop!
Please, I'm innocent!
Yeah, another lie to add
to the list.
- I don't know who k*lled Brad.
- You have to believe me.
We do?
That's you, right?
Inserting a virus
into Brad's laptop?
Hoovering up a bunch
of confidential information?
It's hard to lose
in the stock market
when you have tomorrow's
"Wall Street Journal" today.
Brad figured out
what you were doing,
called the SEC.
So you,
or someone you're working with,
smashed his head in.
I didn't hurt him. I swear.
I just did what I was told.
Meaning what?
A photographer back home
told me I could make good money
modeling in New York.
So they got me a visa,
paid for my plane ticket
But it was all a lie.
Elena, can you tell me
what happened?
He said if I didn't do
what he wanted,
he'd k*ll me,
k*ll my family in Albania.
And then he b*at me.
And r*ped me.
Who? Who did that?
I never knew his name.
But his accent... he was from
my country.
Very tall.
And he had a tattoo
of a tiger on his chest.
What did he want you to do?
Sleep with men who worked
in mergers and acquisitions.
They knew these men's names,
the places they ate and drank.
I've seen a lot
of twisted schemes...
Makes Madoff look
like a choir boy.
Was anyone else involved?
I only met one other person.
Jane. She was my handler.
We'd meet once a week
in Fort Greene Park.
Okay, what did Jane look like?
White, 35, pretty.
Do you think that Jane
and that man
are responsible
for Brad's m*rder?
I don't know for sure.
But this is all my fault.
I'm to blame.
When Brad found out,
he got upset.
Said he was going to make me
pay for what I did.
So I met up with Jane
in the park
and I told her what happened.
She said she would
"handle the problem."
When you came and told me
he was dead,
I thought I would be next.
But I have no one, no money.
All right, so here's Elena
meeting with Jane
in Fort Greene park.
Zoom in, Ian,
get me a plate number.
You got it.
There it is.
Okay, car is registered
to World Capital Talent.
It's the agency who sponsored
Elena's visa.
Do we have an address?
Uh, looks like another
shell corp with just a PO box.
Someone had to sign
those incorporation docs.
And that someone
is named Jane Garrett.
Age 35, lives in Greenpoint.
- We'll sh**t you the address.
- Copy that.
Infantry, stack on door.
- Check your point of entry.
- Hold.
Stand by.
Red team in!
Hallway clear!
- Go left.
- Blue team, secure the rear!
Support coming up.
By the wall.
Maggie, we got a body.
Bedroom clear.
- Cover the windows.
- Clear.
- That's Jane.
- There goes our best lead.
You mean our only lead.
Okay, no sign
of forced entry or burglary.
Place is spotless besides
the body on the ground.
Means there's a good chance
that Jane knew her k*ller.
Okay, so he comes through
the front door, right,
she goes back to the kitchen
to get a couple drinks.
Creeps up behind her, pop pop,
sh**t her
in the back of the head.
He got up close and personal,
too.
Both wounds are close contact,
lots of stippling and powder.
So he's a pro.
Could be
a pro basketball player, too
Their angle of entry suggests
your sh**t is very tall.
Well maybe it's
the same tall guy
that b*at and r*ped Elena.
Yeah. Are these burners?
Can we get them to 26 Fed
as soon as possible?
Hey, just talked to a neighbor.
She saw a man exit
the house at 2:45,
around the time of the m*rder.
She see anything?
He was white, in his 40s,
drove away in a black sedan.
She didn't know what kind
but said it looked expensive.
Oh, and he was really tall.
Run that again.
You guys know we're looking
for a really tall man
driving a dark luxury sedan,
and that is all we have.
So we should be digging into
every surveillance camera
within a half a mile
of the crime scene,
running the plates
of every black sedan
driven by a male, white.
Let's go.
Hey, any luck on the burners?
Looks like she called Brad
Hughes the night of the m*rder.
10:22 p.m., they talked
for four minutes.
Well, she probably lured him
to the park.
Called another number that
night, too.
Once at 10:30,
before the m*rder,
and again at 12:45,
after the m*rder.
- Got a name?
- No.
Phone's unregistered.
Shocking, I know.
- Anything else?
- Like a location?
Pinged off a tower
up in the Bronx.
Belmont neighborhood.
Big Albanian population.
Lot of organized crime
up there, too.
Why don't we talk
to people in O.C.?
I'm sure they've got names and
dossiers of potential suspects.
You're right, but I'm not
sure they'd be
willing to share information.
Not the good stuff, anyway.
Well, why not ask?
Because we might be told
to stand down.
One crime, one criminal versus
the career-making takedown
of a nefarious Eastern European
crime syndicate.
Right.
Okay, then what's our next move?
- I don't know.
- Talk to your sources.
Your CIs, local cops,
off the record.
Hey - Hey.
Been digging into
World Capital talent.
It turns out
they also sponsor visas
for nine other
young Albanian models,
all working with the same agency
that Elena was working with.
- There are nine other women?
- Mm-hmm.
Do you recognize any
of these women?
I know her, Svetlana.
We grew up in the same town.
She's a year younger than me.
Okay, have you seen her or
any of these women in New York?
No, as I told you,
I don't really see anyone
other than the men I dated.
I want to help.
I'll do anything you want.
We have to find them.
We will.
I love that we work so close.
So easy to sneak out,
take a walk.
Or discuss things
you don't wanna discuss
over the phone.
Nothing gets past you, does it?
So what's up?
Well, it turns out
that someone is forcing
young women to seduce
Wall Street guys
to steal inside information.
- It's pretty innovative.
- And horrifying.
We think the man that's
behind it is Albanian,
lives in the Bronx,
the Belmont area.
And I know that you're working
that big Eastern European case.
Yeah.
- So...
- You have a name?
No. That's the problem.
We know he's in his 40s, tall,
really tall, 6'3 ", 6'5",
has a tiger tattoo on his chest.
- And he's Albanian?
- Yeah, we believe so.
I'm taking a flyer here,
but it could be a guy
by the name of Nikolas Christo.
He does a lot
of money laundering
for the Russians
and the Ukrainians.
Is he one of your targets?
No, more of a peripheral player.
Okay, that helps. Thank you.
- Just keep me in the loop.
- I will.
So did you decide on Miami yet?
I'll call you.
His name is Nikolas Christo.
He's 6'5", an Albanian thug,
with loose connections
to multiple
Eastern European gangs.
The word on the street,
he's smart
and good with numbers.
He did time back home
for m*rder,
and the prison documented
his tiger tattoo.
Elena confirms it's
the exact same one she saw.
But where did we get the name?
A source.
This is definitely our guy.
Okay, but we have nothing
connecting him
to the sex trafficking,
insider trading,
- or the two murders.
- No.
But we do have Elena.
Maybe she's willing
to wear a wire.
All right, this has to be
her decision.
sh**t her straight,
let her know how risky this is.
Okay.
This man we're going after
is obviously very dangerous.
But I mean, you know that
better than anyone.
The problem is, right now
we can't touch him.
So we're hoping
that you can meet up with him
Just get him to start talking
about insider trading
or murders.
And then hopefully we can
get what we need
to make the arrest.
Now, look, we're gonna be
with you the whole time.
Agents are gonna be watching
and listening.
Unfortunately, as hard
as we try to protect you,
we can't really guarantee
your safety.
I will do anything
to stop this monster
and to help save
those other women.
You really think this guy
is showing up here?
Well, according to his black
Amex card, he's been here
five out of
the last seven nights,
so it's our best sh*t.
It is crazy how much money
you can make
off of one stupid insider tip.
You ever tempted?
No, not even close.
Still easy to screw up, though,
make a mistake,
even when you're trying
to be careful.
What do you mean?
One time I got a call from a guy
pretending to be the CEO
of my firm.
Some Brit named Elliot Hoyt.
Guy had a perfect English
accent and everything.
So he wanted to know the name
of every deal I was working on.
Thank God you didn't fall
for that.
Oh, I fell. Flat on my face.
Rattled off every damn deal
I had going.
None of 'em ever got
off the ground, though.
Hey.
I think that's him.
Target's car has arrived.
He's heading inside now.
I've got eyes on the target.
Okay, we're good to go.
Maggie, breaking news.
Christo just bought a plane
ticket to Tirana, Albania.
Departs tomorrow morning
at 9:20.
Given the fact that we have
no evidence against this guy,
can't detain him,
this may be our only sh*t.
Copy.
Excuse me. Chardonnay, please.
So our friend is leaving
for Albania tomorrow,
which means that right now
is our only sh*t
to nail this son of a bitch.
Okay.
Thank you.
You're gonna be great, okay?
We've got your back.
May I join you?
How can I refuse
such a beautiful woman?
- Do I know you?
- Yes.
My name is Elena.
So, Elena, how did you find me?
Jane said if I was
ever in any trouble,
real trouble,
and I couldn't find her,
that I should go reach out
to you at this restaurant.
What kind of trouble are you in?
Brad Hughes, the man that I...
I... the FBI told me
he was k*lled.
I tried to call Jane, but she
didn't call me back, so...
- So you talked to the FBI?
- Yes.
What did you tell them?
- That he was my boyfriend.
- That's about it.
That's the right answer, Elena.
You're both beautiful and smart.
But what if the FBI finds out
what I did?
That I stole the information
form his computer?
She's pretty good at this.
She had to be
in order to survive.
Don't worry about the FBI.
- But what if they arrest me?
- I'm all alone.
I don't have any money
for a lawyer.
Let's not speak
about any of this here, okay?
But I'm scared.
There's no reason to be scared.
I will take care of you.
- You will?
- Of course, come on.
She's on the move with Christo.
Elena doesn't travel
under any circumstances.
- No car.
- Copy that.
Do you know where Jane has been?
I've been trying to reach her.
She went to visit her sister
in London.
Oh, okay, good, I was worried.
How 'bout we take a ride?
Get a drink some place
nice and private?
Figure all this out.
Okay, I'll meet you there.
No, we'll go together.
I'd rather meet you.
Help.
g*n, moving.
FBI, don't move!
Back up!
- Put your g*n down, now.
- Lower your w*apon!
Drop it, now!
Go to hell.
I will not ask you again.
I'm getting in my car
with my friend.
We're going to drive away.
Or I'll sh**t this bitch
in the head.
sh*ts fired by FBI, man down,
send EMS to our location now.
You did a great job, Elena.
You did great.
- Where are the other women?
- Where are they?
Where are they?!
- Elena, we're gonna find them.
- Okay?
I promise.
You ruined me!
He's dead.
It's okay, it's okay.
It's okay.
Just talked to ballistics.
Christo's g*n is the same g*n
used in Jane's m*rder.
Shocker.
- Now we can close that case.
- What about Brad Hughes?
ERT found trace evidence
of Brad's blood
in Christo's car
and on his clothes.
I guess we can close
that one, too.
Mm-hmm. More importantly,
what about the nine other women?
We found their names
and addresses
in Christos' apartment.
We're tracking them down
right now.
- That's good news.
- Yeah.
OA, I need a moment.
Do you know Tom Dolan?
He heads up Organized Crime.
I know who he is,
that's about it.
Well, apparently,
our takedown at the restaurant
screwed up
one of his operations,
an operation
he'd been working on for years.
He wants to talk
to you in his office
tomorrow, 8:00 a.m.
That's fine.
He's gonna ask you where you
got the name "Nikolas Christo."
And unlike me, he will insist
on an answer.
I can't believe
Christo abused all these women
just to get inside information.
And I can't believe
more people haven't done it.
Okay, you're too young
to be jaded.
Oh, I'm afraid the ship
sailed on that a long time ago.
Elena?
- Svetlana?
- Elena?
Oh, my God.
If you dare say anything
cynical about this,
I'll k*ll you.
No. That's all good.
You know, you keep asking me
why I left Wall Street.
Mm-hmm.
That's why.
I wanted to be a part
of something like this.
You know, something real.
Something that matters.
I'm glad you got your guy.
But that restaurant was
a popular mob hangout.
We had wires in place;
it was an intel gold mine.
That's all over now.
- I'm sorry.
- It wasn't your fault.
You did what you had to do.
So I hear you're gonna meet
with Dolan tomorrow?
- Yeah.
- What're you gonna tell him?
Nothing.
- Bad idea, Omar.
- Dolan's vindictive.
Just tell him the truth.
Don't worry about me.
- I can handle myself.
- So can I.
I know. But Dolan's FBI.
He can make your life
very difficult
I don't care about Dolan.
We did nothing wrong, Mona.
He's just looking
for someone to blame.
So could you please
just tell me...
What a salt treatment is?
Oh, so you're gonna come?
If you'll still have me.
Maybe.