It's crazy to me how you
can focus like that,
even in a time like this.
Honey, are you crying?
I had the kids write about
a big moment in their lives.
It's eighth grade, so I get
a lot of essays about
scoring soccer goals
and crushing it on "Fortnite."
But...
this boy tells the story of
holding his sister's hand
when she d*ed of leukemia.
Oh, boy.
It's beautiful what he wrote.
You just never know who
people are inside.
Or when it's all gonna end.
Did you ever think about that?
Ditching it all.
No.
Let's say we won a lottery.
- What?
- No jobs, no masters to serve,
where would you want to live?
We're not winning
the lottery, babe.
Oh, come on,
Work with me; dream a little.
We're both right where
we're supposed to be.
- You are hopelessly practical.
- Hmm.
That's why you love me.
Ben.
You better call 911.
If you're calling to see
if I got coffee,
the answer, sadly, is no.
Line was out the door.
Actually, the question is,
how far away are you?
We just got put
on special assignment.
- What is it?
- Uh, no idea.
Isobel gonna brief us in ten.
All right, I'll be right there.
Are you kidding me? Hey!
Really?
Look, I... I saw
the light turn green.
I'm sorry, this is...
This is utterly my fault.
- You're utterly correct.
- Ahh.
Okay, do you have
your insurance?
Yeah, of course, but...
Look, I'd rather pay to fix
your damage
than have to file
an insurance claim, if that's...
Either way, I... I have
to fill out
an accident
investigation report.
- What is that, a police thing?
- It's an FBI thing.
- I hit an FBI agent.
- Mm-hmm.
Oh, my God.
I mean, destruction
of government property...
I'm gonna have to arrest you.
What?
Really?
No.
But I do need your information.
Please, I... I got to go.
Okay, yeah.
Here's my card.
Thank you.
- Sorry I'm late.
- No problem.
We're just getting started.
- Hey.
- Hey.
Frank Webber of Queens
was k*lled last night
in a car crash.
He d*ed at the scene.
Local police ruled it
an accident,
but I got a call
from headquarters in D.C.
They want a second opinion.
Preliminary details
on Frank Webber
and copies of the police report
are in your folders.
Okay, not to be Captain Obvious,
but car crashes aren't usually
our thing.
- Well, this one is.
- It's top priority.
Is Webber connected
to the Bureau?
Not as far as I'm aware.
- Then why is D.C.
- pushing this so hard?
They're not telling me anything.
Look, just do your
due diligence;
make sure Mr. Webber's accident
really was an accident.
Well...
this is weird.
The police think an animal
ran out...
That Frank swerved to miss it.
I...
I keep expecting to hear
his car pull up.
How can he just be gone?
I understand.
I lost my husband
in a similar way.
Can we ask you
a few more questions?
Mmm.
What does Frank do for work?
Did he work for the government
in any way?
The government?
No. He was a photographer.
Headshots, weddings,
and print work.
He started out
sh**ting wildlife.
Camping out in the woods
for weeks on end.
Um, Mrs. Webber.
Did your husband
have any enemies?
Someone that might
wanna hurt him?
Uh, no... nothing like that.
What about depression
or a recent change in behavior?
Frank did not k*ll himself.
Why are you asking
these questions?
Why is the FBI
even involved in this?
This is just a routine inquiry.
Do you know where Frank
was going last night?
To a photo gig, I think.
When he left,
he took his camera bag.
Uh...
I really don't think I can talk
about this anymore.
That's okay.
Thank you.
And if anything comes up,
don't hesitate to contact me.
Okay.
- You okay?
- I'm good.
She's the one
going through hell.
So far, this looks like
a straight up accident.
Yeah, but she said
Webber had a camera bag.
The inventory from the crash
scene didn't show one.
Maybe it wound up at the morgue.
No mystery as to Mr. Webber's
cause of death.
Massive trauma to the head
and chest from the crash.
Anything turn up in his blood?
No alcohol, no dr*gs,
but he does have
outstanding cholesterol levels.
And in your view this was
a traffic fatality?
Totally routine?
I see these
with dismal regularity.
The victim arrive
with a camera bag?
No. Just a wallet,
keys, money clip,
that sort of thing.
- That's odd.
- What?
- His envelope's missing.
- I... I put it here myself.
You guys got
surveillance video in here?
Why would anyone break in?
How long has this been on?
Since I started the autopsy.
It's how I document
the procedure.
Maybe we'll find our answer
here.
- We need to talk to this guy.
- He doesn't work here.
I've never seen him before
in my life.
All right, maybe not so routine.
Yo, yo, check it!
Something's a little funky here.
This dude took Webber's effects.
Why? Who is he?
Let's use street cams to track
where he went,
uh, let's run him though
facial rec,
and let's get some answers,
shall we?
Nope. No camera bag.
- Airbag deployed.
- That should've saved his life.
I mean, if he was going
fast enough,
the airbag wouldn't matter.
There's blood spatter
on the dash and the windshield.
Right, from the impact of Webber
slamming into the wheel.
No, there shouldn't be any
impact spatter.
Airbag would've blocked it.
Unless the airbag malfunctioned.
Or maybe the car
was tampered with.
- Jubal.
- Yeah? Whatcha got?
It was definitely tampered with.
- Really?
- What's the black box show?
Uh, it's actually called an
EDR, or Event Data Recorder.
- Thank you.
- Just before impact,
Webber accelerates
to 85 miles per hour.
Then he veers hard to the left
and hits the tree
300 milliseconds later.
All right, so maybe he was
playing "Speed Racer"
and swerved to avoid something.
Except when he hit the tree,
weird things happened.
Or didn't happen.
- Please elaborate.
- So, the car's seatbelt,
pre-tensioners, and airbags
didn't deploy
until five seconds
after the collision.
But that's like, uh,
impossible, isn't it?
Not if the car was hacked.
Hacked? How?
Via the car's
internet connection.
It looks like the culprits,
they got into the
entertainment system.
Then they rewrote some code
to gain access to the vehicle's
other functions.
So, they were able to delay the
airbags, disable the brakes...
So the acceleration,
the hard left...
Yeah, none of that was Webber.
- It was all remotely controlled.
- Wow.
- By who?
- I can't tell, but...
they were using a satellite
internet service provider.
Satellite?
All right, people, listen up.
The death of Frank Webber is
now officially a m*rder,
and a highly sophisticated one
at that,
made to look like an accident.
And I, for one,
would like to know
who would go to these extremes
to k*ll a photographer,
so let's dig deep into Frank
Webber's life; go to it.
Now, he is our prime suspect,
so where'd he go
after the morgue?
We weren't able to track him.
He seemed to know where
the street cams were
and how to avoid them.
Well, if he took
Webber's effects,
he probably
took the camera bag too, right?
So, we reached out
to emergency personnel
who worked the crash.
Nobody remembers a bag.
Maybe it was taken from the
scene before they got there.
Who called 911?
Of course. Come on in.
The whole thing is just so sad.
- So awful.
- Who was he?
- Frank Webber.
- Do you guys remember
any of the cars that stopped
at the scene?
- How many?
- Two or three?
- Three, I think.
- Yeah.
But we left when
the ambulance showed up,
so there may have been more.
Did you see anybody
approach the car?
Well... yes, I mean to see what
had happened.
See how he was doing.
Did you maybe see anybody
reach into the car?
I... I didn't really notice.
We were trying to give him
first aid until
the EMT showed up.
- Okay.
- Was this man at the scene?
I don't think so,
but there was a lot going on.
- I'm sorry.
- I just don't remember.
Of all the cars that stopped...
do you remember any
make or model?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure one
was a...
was a gold Chevy?
Okay, we got to ID that Chevy
and those other cars...
Someone out there that
took that bag or saw who did.
So the hacked car, missing bag,
and Webber's stuff
stolen from the morgue.
What do you think
this is all about?
I have no idea, but I'm
pretty sure that's what whoever
behind this is going for.
Oh, hey.
That guy's been sitting in that
blue sedan since we got here.
- What's going on?
- Sir, get inside your house.
- FBI!
- Take your hands off the wheel.
Slowly...
put your hands where
I can see them.
It's not what you think.
I'm with the agency.
Understood, sir. Thank you.
Well it turns out Mr. Collins
is indeed with the CIA,
and it is the CIA who is
interested in Webber.
All right, well, that surely
leaves a lot
of unanswered questions.
Yeah, like, why did you steal
his effects?
What were you doing
at the Blakes?
Frank Webber was
in possession of...
vital information.
In the bag that you were after.
I thought the Blakes might've
seen whoever grabbed it
from his car.
You are aware that the CIA
is forbidden
to operate on U.S. soil?
I'd rather beg forgiveness
then ask permission
when stakes are this high.
What exactly
are we talking about here?
Sir, it was your people that
wanted this looked into.
You cannot keep us in the dark
if you want us to help you.
We picked up chatter
on a Russian operation
called Codename Ferdinand.
- Codename Ferdinand?
- What is that?
The Russians engage
in cyberattacks,
disinformation efforts,
but we think Ferdinand
is far more serious.
Okay, so what other intel
do you have on this operation?
Almost none.
But we got word that
a Russian diplomat,
Sergei Belevich, was meeting
with one of their top agents
yesterday in Manhattan.
An agent we believe is carrying
out this operation.
What does any of this
have to do with Frank Webber?
Webber was an agency freelancer.
I hired him to tail
this diplomat
and photograph the meeting
with the Russian agent.
Webber was supposed to bring me
photos, but...
They made him... and k*lled him.
Probably from a laptop
in Moscow.
You're saying
they hacked his car
from halfway around the globe?
Welcome to the wonder
of our connected world.
Russia is trying to protect
this agent's anonymity.
At all costs.
We need to identify him.
We identify the agent;
we disrupt the operation.
And we find who k*lled Webber.
Yeah. That too.
Let's... work together on this.
- I'll take the lead, and...
- We will take the lead.
You may observe and advise.
Nothing more.
We're joined today by
Mr. Collins, who despite
starring in that video is
actually our CIA rep.
So, let's make him feel
at home, yeah?
So...
we now believe our car crash
victim, Frank Webber,
surveilled a Russian diplomat
and an unknown agent
maybe connected to his death.
So let's retrace
Webber's movements
and try to ID that person.
I remind you,
we still don't know who
made off with Webber's bag.
We did a cell tower dump?
Let's see what numbers pinged
off the towers
near the crash scene.
- Yeah?
- Uh, Kristen and I
- can handle that.
- All right, let me know
if something pops.
- Hey, Jubal?
- Yeah?
Look, now that this is a
m*rder, I want to re-interview
- Webber's wife.
- Not a good plan.
Why? Maybe she can
shed some light on this.
- She can't.
- She has no idea Webber
even worked for us, and for now
it stays that way.
Right, um...
- yeah.
- Yeah.
Can I talk to you for a second?
- He's a real charmer.
- Guys like that were
all over Iraq.
You never quite know
where they stand.
So, uh...
I'm not loving your take on
"observe and advise."
This is classified intelligence.
In fact, we need to limit who
gets read into the details
- of this...
- Collins.
If that is even your name,
everybody here has
top secret clearance.
You may not trust them,
but I do.
This is my house.
'Scuse me.
- Hello?
- Hey, it's Jeremy.
Jeremy Parks.
The idiot who rear-ended you.
Right, uh... hey, listen, I...
I haven't submitted
the accident paperwork yet.
That's actually
not why I'm calling.
Look, you handled this
with such humor and grace,
I just wanted to
show my gratitude
and maybe redeem myself
by buying you lunch?
- Lunch?
- I'm a humble
college professor who
literally ran into a smart,
funny, attractive, FBI agent.
I just wanna be open
to the possibilities.
Uh... me too. So, okay.
- Let's do it.
- Really?
- Oh, that's fantastic.
- Yeah, okay.
I got to go.
We got a hit on Webber's
credit card...
Got a cab right around the time
he was on that surveillance run.
Yes, I remember this man.
We followed a car.
Said a friend of his was inside.
What can you tell us
about the car?
- A limo, diplomatic plates.
- Where'd you follow it to?
- Fifth Avenue.
- Then your man got out.
- Okay.
- Did you see where he went?
- He walked away.
- Went to Central Park.
Thank you for your time.
Diplomatic plates?
Webber was following that
Russian diplomat.
Into Central Park.
Maybe he was meeting
with that agent.
It's a good venue...
Hide in plain sight,
no video cameras.
Plenty of other cameras.
- Jubal, I got something.
- You again?
My Russian diplomat?
What about him?
We think he met the agent
at Central Park, right?
- Yeah.
- Not a lot of video cameras,
but the park gets 100,000
visitors a day,
so Maggie had me comb through
social media for photos taken
at the park yesterday.
I ran them through
facial recognition searching
for our Russian.
Wow, look at that.
That is not him at all.
Look in the background.
Our agent is a woman.
- Email me that photo, ASAP.
- Oh... hold up.
- You recognize her?
- I don't.
- But my people might.
- You'll let me know, right?
Yeah.
This whole thing
feels like a spy novel.
You ever worked a case
like this, before?
I don't think these
come around too often.
There's the Blakes' 911 call.
No red flags so far.
A burner phone.
Signal puts it
within 300 meters of the crash.
All right, you wanna check
the towers nearby,
see if you can figure out
which way that
phone traveled after the crash?
Yeah, hold on.
- Hey, Jubal, I ran the image.
- No hits on facial rec.
Is that... yeah,
I think that's a scar
on the palm of her hand.
Run it through the
scar and tattoo database.
- We ran the cell towers.
- Someone at the crash scene
- had a burner phone.
- Uh, we think this someone
is the person that took the bag?
- It looks like it.
- The signal shows her phone
was stationary for 12 minutes
after the crash.
- It was inside a parked car.
- Mm-hmm.
- Get the number?
- Mm-hmm.
It's been off-line
since the accident.
Locate the cell tower closest
to where these two were
in Central Park.
Okay. Got it.
Let's see if this number
pings off that tower
around the same time
the sh*t was taken.
Yup, the burner
at the crash scene
was also at Central Park,
yesterday.
- Okay, so it's her phone.
- She was at the crash.
She took the bag, which means...
the Blakes might have seen her.
- I don't understand.
- The man you arrested
in front of our house?
It was a case
of mistaken identity.
Do you recognize this woman?
Was she at the scene?
- I'm not sure.
- I don't think so.
- Uh, is your husband home?
- We'd like to show him too.
- He's at the gym, sorry.
- That's okay, um,
but you don't remember any car
besides this gold Chevy?
To be honest I can barely
tell one car from another.
But Ben will be home
in a few hours.
Maybe he can help.
OA!
Lisa, stop!
She's running.
Go!
Hey, Lisa Blake is the agent.
She and her husband are armed
and fleeing the scene
in a silver Toyota.
All right, here's where
we stand...
Lisa Blake is a Russian agent;
so is her husband, Ben.
Sleepers who have probably
been here for years.
They took the bag, and now they
are in the wind.
We need to issue a nation-wide
BOLO with a focus on routes
out of the city and state.
Where are we with their phones?
Both off-line; we tried
to activate them remotely,
- but nothing.
- Uh-huh, what about
- the getaway car?
- There's no way to track it.
No LoJack, no rolling Wifi.
We need to check their phone
and email history
for anyone they might contact.
Talk to their work colleagues.
She teaches school.
What does he do?
Engineer at an aerospace firm.
He's been passing tech
secrets to the Russians.
Damn it.
Got the Blakes'
internet history?
Work related, social media,
the usual stuff,
though Ben loves his
travel p*rn.
He searched a lot of resorts,
vacation getaways...
All right, run it down.
See if it points
to where they're headed.
- May I just add something?
- Go ahead.
These are the most dangerous
fugitives imaginable.
They're ruthless, well-trained,
and will not make
the typical mistakes.
They also have significant
intelligence value.
So not only must we find them...
we need to
take the Blakes alive.
- So normal.
- I didn't see it coming.
Neither did I. No one did.
Huh, pregnancy test.
I'm gonna do a background
check into Jeremy Parks.
You know, the guy that hit me
this morning?
Okay, now you're just
being paranoid.
Yeah, after not being
paranoid enough.
Wait, didn't you look into Mona?
I did. That's my point.
She was clean.
I'm sure he is too.
I don't think we're gonna
find anything, Maggie.
These people were undercover
for years,
and I just don't think they're
gonna leave clues behind.
Yeah, well, they still went
off in a hurry, you know.
Maybe they overlooked something.
Well, Ben definitely had
a restless mind.
We got books on art,
history, genetics,
agricultural techniques
in southern France.
I got something.
Shredded paper.
Motor's still warm.
Yeah, I think I got
something too.
Missing key. 1829.
- Okay.
- 1829.
Is it a reference to the year?
A safe deposit box? An address?
Do the Blakes have
any other properties?
Let's find out what
this number means, please.
We got a hit on the BOLO.
NYPD just spotted
the Blakes' car.
- Scola, FBI.
- What's the situation?
Lieutenant Briggs,
your fugitive won't respond
to our commands.
Won't exit the vehicle.
Mind?
This is Agent Scola
with the FBI.
You're surrounded by heavily
armed officers, and we're all
pretty keyed up.
Just slowly open the door
and step out of the vehicle
with your hands in plain view.
- Tess.
- What have you got for me?
A receipt.
Looks like Ben Blake
bought a firearm at a g*n show.
Right, to avoid
background checks.
- What kind of g*n?
- We're still working on that.
Something expensive. Four grand.
Yeah, thanks. Hey.
We got the driver, but he's
just some knucklehead.
An ex-con that the Blakes hired
to drive their car
- to a parking lot.
- From where?
All right,
breaking news, people.
Lisa and Ben Blake were
last seen
near LaGuardia Airport.
Now, if they caught a flight,
they're likely travelling
under false passports.
- Forget that.
- It's a waste of time.
Uh, excuse me,
why do you say that?
- They didn't catch a flight.
- They went to the airport,
and they tried to hide that
fact by paying someone
to park their car
in Staten Island.
They knew we'd find that out.
We're on the same side here,
but the Blakes
are two steps ahead.
They want us to think
they're fleeing.
Okay, so if they're not fleeing,
maybe they're executing that op
you guys are so worried about.
I think they are.
We got a credit card charge
from 2015 for a storage unit.
- Where is it?
- Queens.
They paid a ten-year rental
in advance.
- Unit 47.
- The missing key.
It's to that storage unit. 1829.
18 plus 29 equals 47.
What do you think
the tape means?
Could mean anything or nothing.
Oh...
- that's disappointing.
- You smell that?
Yeah, g*n oil.
- I'll get ERT down here.
- See if they can figure out
what else was in there.
Maggie Bell.
It's Ann Webber, Frank's wife.
Uh, is everything all right?
I'm standing here by the tree.
What tree, Ann?
There's still glass everywhere.
- Little pieces of his car...
- Okay, I'm gonna send someone
from Victim Assistance
to be with you, okay?
- Just stay where you are.
- I feel like I'm drowning...
Ann, I got to call you back.
OA.
- You go right, I go left?
- All right.
Maggie!
Maggie!
Not today, bitch.
Look, ASAC Valentine...
Okay, nobody calls me that.
- Jubal, please.
- Jubal, then.
You have to let me question
Lisa Blake.
If it were up to me,
that'd be fine,
but Isobel made the call.
Look, Unit 47 was empty.
Why would Lisa show up
to an empty storage unit?
She and Ben split up
to double the chances
- of completing the mission.
- Mm-hmm.
He left that piece of tape
on the door to signal Lisa
that he'd collected
whatever was in there.
A g*n was in there,
and now we know what kind.
They reconstructed that receipt.
Ben bought a used Sako TRG 42.
A high-end sn*per r*fle.
All right, folks, listen up!
It now appears
Ben Blakes' objective
is to commit an assassination.
Let's get the names
of the people
on the Kremlin's hit list
and check those names against
local residents
and visiting dignitaries.
- Her husband is out there.
- About to k*ll someone.
A high value target.
We're turning over every rock.
I worry about who that target is
and what dominos may fall.
Our best sh*t at preventing this
is getting the truth
out of Lisa Blake.
Okay, why isn't Collins
taking that sh*t?
- He's a spy.
- She'll already know his moves.
I want you to talk to her.
- Me?
- You caught her.
At some level she respects you.
- You have a relationship.
- I don't know that
b*ating the hell out of each
other is a relationship.
I think you can reach her.
But if you think I'm wrong,
don't go in that room.
Hey.
I heard that you're doing
the interview.
- Yeah, wish me luck.
- I'm gonna need it.
- Uh, listen...
- they looked into your guy,
Jeremy Parks.
Turns out that he teaches
at Columbia.
Russian studies.
- Russian studies?
- I know,
and he's spent
two years in Moscow.
- Doing what?
- Post-graduate work,
supposedly.
Okay, Isobel would've told
D.C. which agents
she was putting on this case.
You don't think the Russians
intercepted that call?
I think it's easier
than hacking a car.
Which would mean that
my accident
wasn't an accident either.
Bring him in.
See what he has to say.
Yeah, I'll put a team on it.
Thought you might be thirsty.
That is just so thoughtful.
- Are you hungry?
- I can get you some food.
You can skip the pleasantries
and the lecture...
Hey Boss, do you mind?
Moral support.
The more the merrier.
Look, Lisa,
whatever your beliefs,
whatever lies you've had to
live, I know one thing is true.
I saw your home. Your pictures.
You really love Ben.
The thing is, he's gonna die
unless you tell us where he is.
I imagine...
That it would hurt you
to lose him
as badly as it hurt me
to lose my husband.
Don't do that to yourself.
Don't let that happen.
Nice try.
How is Ben getting around?
Foot?
Taxi?
Train?
Train.
Port Authority says a man
matching Ben Blakes'
description bought a train
ticket, Manhattan to Newark.
When does it arrive in Newark?
- 15 minutes ago.
- Call Newark FBI.
See if they can track
where Blake went from there.
Okay, Lisa, you don't
wanna talk about that.
Let's move on to another topic.
It's a DNA test
with the swab we took.
- You're not in the system.
- I could've told you that.
Saved you the trouble.
Well, saliva tests
for other things as well:
opioids, meth...
which you tested negative for.
But you were positive
for the hormone hCG.
You're pregnant, Lisa.
How long have you been trying?
It's finally happened.
Personally, I've always wanted
to be a mom.
You still have a choice
right now.
You can have a future with your
child if you do not let this go
any further.
If you tell me the truth.
Look at me.
Who's the target?
Ivan Ruskov.
It fits.
Ruskov is an ex-oligarch and
a major critic of the Kremlin.
- And he lives in New Jersey?
- Stone Harbor.
Agent Bell. Nice work.
- k*lled it in there, Maggie.
- Yeah, I don't know...
What's wrong?
- She's acting.
- That whole thing was an act.
- Hey, great work.
- Newark's FBI team's headed
- for Ivan Ruskov right now.
- No, no, no... I don't think
- that he's the target.
- What? Why not?
- Because it was just too easy.
- I think she played me.
Where are we
with the shredded paper?
Got half the room working
on it, including Kristin.
- How we doing, Kris?
- Virtual document recovery.
They scan the pieces;
I try and put them together.
It's like the jigsaw puzzle
from hell.
What...
Is that a block of times?
Ah... uh, I think
it's a log of some sort.
I mean, look at these times
under Tuesday:
9:46 a.m., 9:55 a.m., 10:52 a.m.
Does that say "Sheppard"
at 9:55 a.m.?
Mm-hmm, I think these go
under "Sheppard."
There's also a "Bowers,"
and "Amir" shows up
like four times.
- "Sheppard Hall."
- Is that a person?
That's the Humanities
Building at Polson College.
Go Muskrats.
- Is there a Bowers building?
- Yeah, Bowers Hall.
Science.
There's no building called Amir.
I think this is a
surveillance log.
Ben was tailing someone
from Polson,
tracking where they were going.
- Maybe a student.
- 9:55 a.m. to 10:57 a.m.
That's about the length
of a class.
How many Amirs are there
at Polson college?
- Is that a first or last name?
- Uh, could be either.
Okay, I see 14 Amirs,
but none of them
have a 10:00 a.m.
class at Sheppard Hall.
But there's an "Amiri,"
who does.
Farhad Amiri.
Tell me about Farhad Amiri,
people.
He's here on a student visa.
State Department lists him
as the son of the
Iranian defense minister.
- Yeah, think about it.
- Russia is all about
trying to destabilize
U.S. democracy.
What is more destabilizing
than k*lling the son
of an Iranian minister
on U.S. soil?
Codename Ferdinand.
The assassination
of Archduke Ferdinand...
It's what triggered World w*r I.
I mean, look at the tensions
between the U.S. and Iran.
Amiri getting m*rder*d...
It could escalate tensions
past the point of no return.
The train ticket
was a head fake.
The Blakes are going
after Farhad Amiri.
Okay, we'll head
to the college now.
Amiri's still
not answering his phone.
- Looks like he shut it off.
- Or someone else did.
- What about his dorm?
- OA and Maggie says
he's not there...
Roommate hasn't seen him.
Looks like he has
a girlfriend at Polson.
- Tagged as Megan Murphy.
- Yup, got her.
- Hello?
- Megan, it's Agent Chazal
with the FBI.
We're looking for Farhad Amiri.
- We think he might be in danger.
- What?
- What kind of danger?
- Megan, right now we just
- need to know where he is.
- He's at the track.
- He runs there every afternoon.
- Wide open spaces,
clear sight lines.
That's where it's going down.
Let's get a support team
en route
to back up Maggie and OA.
- There he is.
- Okay, go get him.
I'm gonna try to find Ben.
Farhad!
OA, there's a window opening.
I think he's in the press box.
- Farhad, Farhad!
- You need to get off the field.
- What?
- We're the FBI.
We need you to
get off the field right now...
No man, get off me.
Get down!
We're pinned down, taking fire.
Step away from the w*apon.
It's over.
I'm serious. I'll sh**t.
Yeah, I'm pretty sure they
want me alive.
Get your hands off
of the w*apon.
Put them in the air.
Slowly back towards me.
I'd like to think
that the work we do here
helps save the world in some
modest way,
but every so often, we get
to do much more than that.
And thanks to each of you,
we apprehended
two foreign agents
and helped avert
a true catastrophe.
And for that, each one of you
owe yourselves
a round of applause.
Yeah, good work, everybody.
I wouldn't have gotten us here.
Nah, you came through
when we needed you.
It's a team sport.
You can observe and advise
any time.
In my business
agenda always trumps loyalty.
We're allies today.
Tomorrow we won't be.
What do you mean,
the Blakes won't be charged?
They're accessories
to Webber's m*rder.
Ben literally tried to blow
that kid's head off.
Not to mention,
they're Russian spies.
Look, this is coming
from on high.
A trial would reveal too much
about the CIA's sources
and methods.
Plus, the Blakes are
bargaining chips now.
They can be traded
for U.S. assets
being held in Russia.
What about Ann Webber?
Her husband d*ed
in a car wreck, and...
the CIA wants
to keep it that way.
Even though Frank Webber d*ed
protecting his country.
She should know
who her husband really was.
Okay, that's her closure.
You know, she'll be lost
without it.
Believe me. I've been there.
Look, I don't like this any
more than you guys do, but...
My hands are tied.
Hey. Can I ask you something?
Am I really pregnant?
I made that up.
I thought so.
That was good.
One last thing.
The interview you requested
on Jeremy Parks.
The agent's
preliminary findings.
Hey, uh, Jeremy.
I just spent three hours
in there convincing them
I wasn't part
of some Russian plot.
- I... I know.
- I'm really sorry about that.
I've been working on
this case, and it...
It just made me see things
that weren't there.
You could've given me
the benefit of the doubt.
You didn't.
Well, let me make it up to you.
Can I do that?
Can I take you to dinner?
- Look, I like you.
- Just instinctively, you know?
And that doesn't happen
every day.
That's why I called.
No, it doesn't happen
for me either.
It's why I said yes.
But there's just too many
flashing red lights.
And I'm trying to...
pay attention to that
these days.
Okay.
I understand.
Besides, I'm, uh... sure you've
got things to take care of
on this case, so...
I do.