03x20 - Let it Go

[bunniefuu]

Ganzman is dead,

the sonic w*apon is destroyed,

and you have the audacity
to tell me to calm down?

The plan is over!

They're flying in as we speak,

and thanks to you,
we have nothing!

Crawford should've never
trusted you with this.

We don't have nothing,
we have a Plan B

that is very much in motion.

So if you would be so kind
as to let me do my thing...

Why don't you stop
playing with your toys?

Tell me what Plan B

you could possibly have...

I need you to watch your tone.

I have less than 24 hours
to make this work.

So, I need you to provide me
with everything that I ask for.

And the first thing
that I need is for you

to leave this room right now.

You have 12 hours

to show me something
that boosts my confidence...

or I pull the plug.

Sure you have enough g*ns?

It's not gonna work.

Because I'm not really here.

I know it looks like I'm here,
but you and I both know

I'm just your mind
playing tricks on you.

Don't look at me like that.

They told you this was coming.

You're sick.

Now, put the g*n down,
and let's talk.

So, how was your flight?

Oh, long. Turbulent.

Kind of like the trip itself.

Oh, well, you're brave
for even going down there.

El Paso is crawling
with ICE agents.

Imagine if one of 'em
asked you for your papers.

I was doing my job.

Okay, well, I am really glad

that you're home.

Well, me too.

Mm.

Did you call Richard?

Who's Richard?

The caterer.

Oh, we have to finalize
the appetizer menu or...

Babe, I haven't seen you
in three weeks.

Seriously, this is what
you really wanna talk about?

You haven't wanted to talk
about anything wedding-related

since before I left.

If this is freaking you out,
then maybe it's a sign

that we should
slow things down...

No, no-no-no,
no slowdown, listen,

I've just been busy
and focused on work.

Let's start over.

I'll take you
to a very nice lunch.

And then immediately after,
I promise I will call Robert.

- Richard.
- Like I said, Richard.

And then I'm gonna
call the florist...

Mm-hmm?

And then the photographer...

Uh-huh?

- Mmm.
- Oh!

And my mother.

Okay, you're terrible

at this whole wedding planning
dirty talk thing.

Avery? You want breakfast?

Avery?

Kurt? Kurt?

- What's wrong?
- She's gone, she's not in her room.

If this is Roman, I swear...

Don't panic,
I'll call her detail.

Where the hell have you been?

Buying bagels. Is that okay?

No! No, it's not okay.

If you wanna leave this house,
you have to tell us.

The bodega's, like,
half a block from here.

I really have
to tell you when I go...

Yes! As long as
Roman's out there,

you cannot come
and go as you please.

You don't think I know that?

Look, we know
how hard this has been.

No, I don't think you do.

We just want you to be safe.

You said this would
feel like a home.

But it's just the same cell
with different wallpaper.

Hey, you wanted to see me?

Have you fixed
the tattoo database yet?

No, it just happened last night.

Roman is triggering
all of the tattoos

externally with false alarms,

so it's gonna take
a minute to solve.

- It's my job to ask.
- I know.

I'm close-ish.
I just need a day.

Or two.

Two and three-quarters
would be great.

Have you looped Rich in?
Why would I do that?

An outside opinion
couldn't hurt.

If I needed an outside opinion,

I would just call my dad.

The database is based
on his algorithm, so...

Great, bring him in.

Uh, no.

That's not what I meant...

Why not? You just said
he was an expert.

Come on, would you bring
your mom in to work?

If she could get
the tattoo database fixed,

you damn straight.

What's that? Another one
of Roman's false alarms?

No, it's about Avery's dad.

We were wrong.

Avery's father didn't
commit su1c1de.

Wait, what? He left a note.

- It was on...
- It was fake.

His body washed up last night
in Sackets Harbor.

Robert Drabkin d*ed of

multiple b*llet wounds
to the chest.

He was m*rder*d.

By Crawford?

Not directly,
but that'd be my guess.

He had dirt in his pores,
consistent with burial,

but he also had
cryogenic markers in his cells.

Suggesting that he was
subsequently frozen.

You're saying he was buried,
dug up, put on ice,

- then dumped into the harbor?
- It would appear so.

That's gotta be Roman.

My hunch is that
he put Drabkin on ice

to preserve the evidence.

In order to point us
to whoever m*rder*d him.

But why now?
He just tried to have us k*lled.

He must've dumped it
before he turned.

Bingo... the coroner thinks.

Drabkin's been in the water
for about a week.

I want a full autopsy
done by us.

Already on it, the body is en
route to the morgue as we speak.

What do you wanna tell Avery?

Right now, nothing.

Let's just see
what the autopsy says.

Avery deserves answers,
not another round of what-ifs.

Yeah.

C.O.D... b*llet wounds
to the thoracic cavity.

Those are eight months old.

But... this...

ultraviolet throat tattoo
was added posthumously.

The Sackets Harbor coroner

didn't mention anything
about a UV tattoo.

Yeah, real cr*ck team
they got down there.

I have the same tattoo.

This is definitely Roman.

Wait, what if he's pointing us
to a clue inside Drabkin's body?

Care to do the honors?

Oh, yeah,
there's something in here.

My brother really has
a flair for the dramatic.

What do those lines mean?

All right.

This key completes your tattoo.

The skull has
key-shaped eye sockets.

Yeah. And now, if we fill
in the negative spaces...

Wow.

Oh, my God.

The key plus the tattoo
forms Greek letters.

They spell "Charon,"
from Greek mythology.

The ferryman who brings
the dead to the underworld.

It's also the alias for
a notorious contract k*ller.

Yeah. He's never been ID'd.

The Bureau has been
tracking him for decades.

So Roman's saying Charon
k*lled Avery's father.

And countless others.

If we figure out
what this opens,

this could literally be
the key to taking him down...

before he kills anyone else.

So we think Crawford
ordered the hit on Drabkin,

but Charon pulled the trigger.

Okay, what about this key?
Are we any closer

to figuring out what it's for?

I figured out what it opens.

It's for Locker 117
at CUNY Law School.

I mean,
it makes sense he'd use a drop box.

Apparently he never meets
his clients in person.

That's why nobody knows
what he looks like.

So Roman ID'd his dead drop box.

This could be the last real hint
we ever get from him.

So we'll send in our b*mb robot,
monitor the perimeter,

and make sure it's clear
before we move in.

Zapata should stay behind.

Why?

Charon works
internationally too.

I'm sure the CIA
has files on him.

Maybe something there
can help us.

That is, assuming that you

would actually share
the intel with us.

The locker could be nothing.

If you could pull the CIA files,
that'd be a big help.

Fine.

Okay.

Jane, you coming?

No. There's something
I have to do.

It was Crawford, wasn't it?

He k*lled my dad.

We believe he ordered
the hit, yes.

Avery... I'm so sorry.

Your father's body
is at the FBI morgue,

if you'd like to see him,
say goodbye.

Where is this hit man now?

The team's trying to locate him.

Good.

We find that assassin
and we use him.

He can testify
against Crawford in court.

This is how
we bring Crawford down.

Tasha! God, it feels like
it's been ten years!

How are you?

Uh, fine. Busy.

Reade's not here, he's...

I know. We had lunch plans,
and he canceled.

Uhh! Well, anyway,
I can't wait 'til

we're done planning
this damn wedding.

Totally. And...

I'm so sorry I can't come.

Wait. What?

But you're his best man.
You have to.

I thought Reade told you, I...

I have this CIA thing.
It's an op.

And I can't really say
that much about it.

I'm actually doing
a report on it now.

But it was really good
to see you, okay?

There wasn't a b*mb
in the locker.

But we did find that.

You think Charon
was watching you?

No, the camera feed
was already disconnected

by the time we got there.

But we do think that
Charon was using that

to vet potential clients every
time they opened the locker,

making sure they weren't cops.

Until Roman warned him the
dead drop had been compromised.

You think you can reconstruct where
this camera was transmitting to?

I can certainly try.

"Do or do not.

There is no try."

Hi, Dad.

Wait, what? That's Bill Nye,
The Science Guy.

Yeah. Also known as my father.

So, Dad, I would
like you to meet...

I'm K-Kurt Weller, sir.
I'm... I'm a huge fan.

Oh, thank you. Thanks.

Wait. But why are
your last names different?

Oh, uh, her mother
and I decided that,

if we had a boy, he would take
his dad's last name.

If we had a girl, she would
get her mom's last name.

So, a Patterson gave birth
to a Patterson.

Who is this guy?

He's a really famous scientist.

I'm sorry, sir.
She has memory issues.

Whoa! Since when are you
so interested in science?

You never care how I solve
any of these tattoos.

I know, but he
makes science fun.

Okay, well,
that's super hurtful.

This is everything
the CIA has on...

- Bill!
- Tasha!

- Hi! What are you doing here?
- Wow!

You knew Patterson's dad
was Bill Nye, The Science Guy?

Yeah, we had dinner once.

Look, my Dad is here
because he designed

the algorithm that I used to
build the tattoo database.

You could call it
"the Dad-a-base."

You're exactly like your father.

No, no, opposite, opposite.

Oh, my God.

All right. Anyway,
as fun as this is,

I gotta get to work
on this camera.

And I guess I've got
an algorithm to retool.

Uh, do you want help
with that, sir?

How would you even
help with that?

Well, I could...

I could hand him the tools
or whatever.

- I could help you.
- I think he's got it.

Okay.

That guy's a little odd.

Yeah.

Babe, didn't you get my text?

Why isn't Tasha coming
to the wedding?

Edgar, what's going on?

I should have
told you sooner, but...

But what?

Tasha told me
she has feelings for me.

And you chose not to tell me?

You were away. I...

Meg...

I... I don't want to
talk about this now.

- Not here.
- All right, fine.

Just don't follow me.

I need some time.

You know, I think you're taller.

Dad, that's not even possible.

How's Mom?

I don't want to talk about it.

Wait, what? Talk about what?

- Your mother. I don't want to talk about it.
- Dad.

Besides, we're got
a lot of work to do.

Okay.

Uh, I can figure this out.

I've got some
highly suspect traffic

on the Port Authority's router,

which has to be Charon,

but it is highly encrypted.

I remember when you first
asked me about condensation.

You couldn't figure out
how the water

got from the inside
of your glass

to the outside of your glass,

and I explained it's a process.

Water vapor is an invisible gas,

and when it comes in contact
with a cool surface

like the outside
of this beaker...

Yes, Dad. The molecules
draw closer together,

creating condensation.

It's obvious you're
trying to distract me.

Obvious?
I've never been obvious.

It's been like that
since high school.

Whenever I would get
stuck on a problem,

you would try to distract me

by giving me something
to focus on,

and then whenever
I would turn back

to whatever I was working on...

Oh, my God.

The camera is programmed
to send a feed

to Little's Comics in Queens.

Which means he might be there.

We storm the shop.

And take Charon alive.

He's how we get Crawford.

Let's move.

Show me your hands!

FBI! On your knees.
Hands behind your head.

Is anybody else
in here with you?

No. Yes. The owner's upstairs.

Back there.

Don't move.

Come on. Let's go. Tasha!

Charon's upstairs.

Stop! FBI!

Don't move!

Uhh!

We find that assassin
and we use him.

He can testify against
Crawford in court.

No. No. No.

I'm sorry. I... I just...
I didn't have a choice.

I know.
He was our one sh*t at finding Crawford.

Now he's dead.

Hmm. That's not gonna
make me go away.

So... why are you
helping Crawford?

You hate him, remember?

I'm not having
this conversation.

You're just gonna throw away
everything you worked for?

Look at the world we live in.
Look how broken it is.

How many people have
the power or the money

or the vision...
to actually fix it?

Crawford does. His plan could...

What about your plan?

Helping the FBI
take down Crawford,

exacting your revenge?

I don't need it anymore.
I have something better.

What? A family?

Hank Crawford
is not your father.

You think I don't know that?

Then why are you helping him?

Because you think he loves you?

He cares more about me
than you do!

No one cares more
about you than I do!

Don't forget that.

Oh, my God.

Will you guys stop?

You're yelling about
loving each other.

It's getting
a little crowded in here.

I don't want to talk about this.

Well, we're both here,
so it looks like you do.

Your boss was a contract k*ller,

one of the best there ever was.

What? Ernie?

He's known as Charon.

He's been on our most wanted
list for years.

And as far as we're concerned,
you're his accomplice.

If I were you,
I'd start talking.

What do you want to know?

Based on the number of hits
that Ernie has carried out,

he'd have a lot of cash.

Is there a safe at the shop?

No.

Okay, what about at home?

Probably.

I mean, I know he has
lots of high-value comics,

like mint-condition ones
from the '30s.

How much could those be worth?

Some of those titles are worth,
like, half a mil each.

I thought he had
a trust fund or something.

He could have been
paid in comics.

Do you remember any
of those comic's titles?

Do mushrooms make
Mario bigger? Heh.

What?

Uh, yes, I know them all.

Great, we'll have Patterson

trace the provenance
of these comics

and find the prior owners.

And then use that to work out
who ordered these hits.

You don't have to
comb through all if this

if you don't want to.

I want to. I want to help.

Oh, it's my godmother.
I should...

Um, I'll give you a minute.

Lynnette, how are you?

Avery, honey, it is... it's
so nice to hear your voice.

I've been meaning to call.
Really. How's Adam?

Well, he loves Brown.

That's great.

So, listen,

as the executor
of your father's estate,

I receive word
of anything, you know,

pertaining to his assets.

Avery, I'm so sorry.

Thanks. But this is easier.

At least I know
he didn't hurt himself.

Right.

Well, your dad left

a very generous
life insurance policy,

and you're entitled to it.

You just have to sign
some papers.

Yeah. I... I'll let you know.

Mm-hmm.

I gotta go.

Are you okay?

I want to see my dad.

I don't want his money.

The things he did
for Crawford...

the lives he destroyed...

He's still your Dad.

You're allowed to miss him.

That's the worst part... I do.

I love him and hate him
all at the same time.

That's how I used to
feel about Roman.

The people
that you love the most

are also the people that
can hurt you the worst.

But if you take
that inheritance,

you'll make something of it,

because you're not your dad.

I guess I should
go sign those papers.

Okay. Can I come with you?

Yeah.

I'll let the team know.

Can we please talk?

You have every right to be mad,

and I should have told you
as soon as she told me.

But you didn't.

And I know why.

You clearly needed space
to consider your options.

There's no other option!

Are you telling me that you have
never had feelings for Tasha?

You're right. We should talk.

So, I just got off
the phone with Mom,

and I think you're
being a total baby.

I am not!

Wait. I know how that sounded.

Dad, I was scared.
I thought you guys

were having a real fight.

We are having
a real fight, okay?

Your mother is
going to publish a paper

with none other
than Dr. Rodney McKay.

He's my academic rival.

Dad, that's crazy.

Mom can conduct research
with whomever she wants,

including Professor Mc...

- Don't even say his name!
- Are you serious?

Yeah, I'm serious!

That guy is my lifelong nemesis.

We're like, uh, Edison and Tesla

or Newton and Leibniz.

Yeah, except you're
not Isaac Newton.

You think
I'm Gottfried Leibniz?!

That's... no.
Don't turn a small thing

into a big thing...
you need to call Mom.

Seriously, she's just
doing her job.

I'll consider it.

Was there anything useful
in those Charon files?

Uh, I don't know.
I haven't looked at it yet.

You know, I think I will
check on your mom.

Those are the title cards
for those comics.

If we find Crawford's
name on there,

then we can prove
that he hired Charon

to k*ll Avery's father.

Who'd pay 400 grand
for a picture book?

That's Flash Comics #1.

It's kind of a big deal.
Wait, Lynnette Belmont?

Who's Lynnette Belmont?

That's Avery's godmother

and the executor of
the Drabkin estate.

You think she ordered his hit?

I don't know, but Jane and
Avery are with her right now.

Here, let me take those for you.

- Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

God, this place is
exactly how I remember it.

Adam and I used to play
"pirate cove" under these stairs.

Yeah. You two had
quite the imagination.

I bet you were adorable.

Were? Mind if I show her around?

Sure.

You know, I, um,
took out some old photos.

You're absolutely gonna die.

I feel so stupid.

I should have seen it, I...

There was nothing to see.

That is the fifth text
that you have gotten.

You can look.

I... I have to...

You don't need to explain.

Promise me you'll be
here when I get back.

Lynnette Belmont's shell
company, Manning Investments,

was the last recorded
owner of Flash Comics #1.

She ordered the hit
on Avery's father.

I've been auto-dialing Jane
and Avery's numbers,

and they keep going
to voicemail.

All right. Just keep
trying, all right?

Tasha and I will head
to Lynnette's.

Whoa, whoa, Reade!

- You're with us.
- Where were you?

Trying to save my marriage
before I actually have one.

We'll fill you in on the road.

Oh, look.
It's Adam and you on Halloween.

You were a pumpkin.

Ohh. I remember this.

Dad dressed
as a farmer that year.

You and Avery's parents
were close?

Yeah. I went to school
with her mom way back,

when we were in Exeter.

I was in the wedding.

Everyone loved Robert.

I don't know who would
want to see him dead.

Powerful men make enemies.

Have you looked into anyone

at HCI Global or the club?

I... I can't discuss
an ongoing investigation.

Oh, of... yeah, of course.

Here you go. You ready to sign?

Yeah. Let's get this over with.

What's the matter?

My Dad had one of these.

Crawford gave it to him for
ten years of dutiful service.

And then your father
gave it to me.

No, he gave it to me.
It's sitting by my bed.

There must have been two.

Did you get this one
from Crawford?

Baby, what are you
talking about?

You work for him, don't you?

Did you do it?

- Did you order the hit?!
- Avery!

Go, go!

We have to get out of here.

Get to the next room. Okay? Now!

Jane!

It's okay.

Stay down.

Uhh!

Come on. Let me show you

where my secret hiding spot is.

- I know where we can hide.
- Okay.

They're heading
to the panic room.

No!

Your arm. You're losing blood.

It's okay. I'm okay.
Don't worry about me.

Why aren't they leaving?

Lynnette, think about this.
I'm FBI.

My team's gonna come for me

if they aren't already
on their way.

Get out of here. Save
yourself while you can.

I'm not going
anywhere till you open this door.

Something's not right. Why would
she risk getting caught to k*ll us?

Unless we're not the only
thing in here that she wants.

Something hidden,
something important.

Like whatever's in that?

We need to get word out.
My cell is downstairs.

The line's dead.

What's that?

They're cutting
through the door.

It's just a matter of time
before they get inside.

Ohh!

Avery. Hey, Avery.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Look at me.

It's gonna be okay, I promise.

I won't let anything
happen to you.

I'm not worried about me.
Look at you.

- You're losing blood.
- Oh, it's not that bad.

It's just a graze, okay?

Here, sit down. Sit down. Okay?

I've already lost
my mom and dad.

I can't lose you, too.

That's not how you felt
this morning.

Okay. There we go.

All right, listen,
I need your help, okay?

Okay.

I need you to
take this tourniquet,

tie it two inches
above this wound,

as tight as you can...
you think you can do that?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

Okay.

- That's okay. There we go.
- Oh, did I hurt you?

No, no. You did good.
You're a natural. Thank you.

Now, how the hell are we
gonna get out of here?

What the hell is taking so long?

It's a panic room.

It's designed
to keep people out.

We're making progress.

I'm going to turn off
the signal jammers

and negotiate with the Feds.

Get inside that room.

All right, Bravo Team, split up.

Want you to surround that house.

Go in the back! Go.

I see you outside.

I want to talk to Jane
and Avery. Now.

Don't worry. She's okay.
They're both okay.

And they'll stay that way if
you follow my instructions.

If you hurt either of them...

No, you don't make the rules,
I make the rules,

because I'm the one holding
a g*n to their heads,

and I will sh**t.

Do you understand?

Yes, I do. What do you want?

I want safe passage
out of my home

and out of this country.

Okay. I can make that happen.

But I am gonna need some time.

I assumed you told Meg.

I hadn't.

Why not?

I kind of wanted to pretend
like it didn't happen.

They're gonna
get that door off soon,

and we need to be ready.

To what? Stone them to death

with cans of stroganoff?

We're dead, aren't we?

You can't think like that.

We have to focus on
what we can control.

Yes, the situation sucks,

but how can we use what we have?

We're almost there.

They're getting closer.

She can't stall them forever.

Go see if you
can find another saw.

We'll make this go faster.

- The team must be here.
- You think?

Well, who else would
she need to stall?

We need to find a way
to send them a signal

and tell them to advance.

This vent is for
cycling air out,

so it has to lead
to the outside.

If we could just
send smoke through it...

Sorry? A smoke signal?

Yeah. A red smoke signal.

How do we make red smoke?

Potassium chlorate,

para-nitroaniline red,
and lactose.

We don't have any of that.

Actually, we do.

Potassium chlorate
in the bleach wipes,

lactose in the powdered milk...

What about para-nitro-whatever?

It's a common dye used
in plant-based fabrics.

Cotton. Perfect.

Take this off.

Where did you learn all of this?

Special recipe from my K&R days.

Just compromise with me.

At least send Avery out.

No one is being sent out

until there is a chopper
on my back lawn.

You have 20 minutes.

That is not enough time.
I'm gonna need twice that.

I'm working on
getting you what you want.

Fine. 40.

So Lynnette just gave us
some more time.

Why the hell would she do that?

She's gotta know
we've called SWAT.

She's not negotiating.
She's stalling us.

Look!

That's gotta be Jane.

She's signaling us to move in.

I'm going in the front door.

You guys go around the back.

They're almost in.

Got it.

Run!

You've been sh*t. How bad is it?

- It's not great.
- Where's Avery?

Don't move!

You work for Crawford.

Did you bring me here
to k*ll me...

- like he k*lled my father?
- No.

No, I just wanted
to know what you knew.

That's all. And then...
and then you saw the pen and...

Shut up!

My father trusted you.

He made you my godmother.

How involved were you
in his death?

I never wanted any of this.

Just tell me the truth!

Hank thought that your father

was having
a crisis of conscience,

and he was gonna
go to the authorities

and he was gonna give us all up.

So he told you
to get rid of him.

When he tells you
to do something,

you don't say no.

I mean, he had stuff
on all of us...

our families.

Avery, I'm so sorry.

You need to pay
for what you've done.

Avery. Avery, don't do this.

Your dad's gone.
You can't change that.

Don't throw your life away.

Mmm...

Avery, you said...

You said you can't lose anyone else.

Well, I can't, either.

Please.

I can't... I can't lose you.
Not like this.

Okay?

Please.

Okay. It's okay. Okay.

Lynnette's changing her story,

denying any connection
to Crawford.

She's protecting him.

Or she's afraid.

Or loyal.

Lynnette's stonewalling.

Charon's dead.
We can't catch a break.

That's not entirely true.

We did get into Lynnette's safe.

There was a very pricey laptop
inside, and I'm guessing

she's not using it
to play Minesweeper.

It's heavily encrypted,
so I'm gonna need some time.

So let's all go home
and get some rest,

and by "all," I mean everyone...

Everyone but me. I get it.

I'll get cozy
with Lynnette's laptop

and see if I can get it to talk.

All right. Night.

All right. Are you ready
to pull an all-nighter?

Whew! Pulling all
the all-nighters on Earth

isn't gonna fix this thing.

- Oh, it's that bad?
- You know, whoever's

feeding this data into the web

is just too good
for my algorithm.

And I think you might
be working too hard.

Oh, I'm definitely
working too hard.

But do you want to stick around?

You know, keep me company?
We can order some Thai.

We can't. I got a date...

with your mother.

Really? Dinner with the enemy?

Yeah, I got to thinking about it

and realized you might be right.

My reaction might have
been, uh, unreasonable.

I apologized.
You're a good man, Dad.

You know, you could get
back on track, too...

- with Tasha.
- That's not...

What did she say?

Nothing, kiddo.

Just, I'm an engineer,
I'm a scientist.

I observed some tension
and I made some inquiries.

And?

Well, she refused
to give details,

which I thought
was very respectful.

Well, yeah, 'cause the details

are pretty
unflattering for her, so...

She seemed very sorry.

Now, this is just a hypothesis,

but is it possible you need
to take your own advice here?

'Cause whatever
she did to upset you,

it sounds like she was
just doing her job.

Come on. Give your dad
a hug, will you...

- Don't.
- What?

Don't say my first name,
because everybody just

calls me "Patterson"
around here.

But you have such a great name.

I know you think that's true.

I love you.

I love you too, sweetie.

I'm so proud of you.

Now, doesn't this b*at
Rikers? Huh?

Betcha they don't have
tempeh burritos in cellblock D.

- Yeah. Because they wouldn't want to start a prison riot.
- True.

Thanks for talking me down.

Well, we made a pretty
great team today.

Yeah. We did.

I know I haven't always been
the easiest to be around.

- Oh, really?
- Oh, I...

I hadn't noticed that at all.

Okay. Well...

Thanks for not giving up on me.

Never. We're family.

So, tonight promises to suck.

Trying to cr*ck this laptop,

and I'd rather bang my head
against a wall.

Do you wanna help?

Yeah. I would.

I'm not over it yet.

I know.

But I want to be.

That's good enough for me.

I-I thought we were gonna talk.

What's left to say?

You promised you'd stay.

I promised that I would be here

when you got back.

I never said that I would stay.

I'll pick up the rest
of my stuff this weekend.

You don't have enough room
in your life for me,

and if I'm being honest,

I don't have enough room
in mine for you.

Here. Take this.

It's an immigration attorney
I've been speaking to.

Never stop, do you?

Not usually, no.

I'm coming out as
undocumented in "The Times."

I wrote the article
before we started dating,

- but then we got serious, so I shelved it.
- Why?

I wasn't gonna allow my status
to damage your career.

I'm not worried about me.

Are you sure you wanna do this?

Millions of people
read "The Times."

I don't want to hide
in plain sight anymore.

I want my readers
to know who I am.

So, you'd better get
that paper on Tuesday.

Wait, wait.

What's gonna happen to you?

I don't know.

But I've gotta do this.

Why are you even
dressed like that?

What are you, The Ghost
of Christmas What-If?

I'm a scientist, actually.

Oh, that's cute.

Little Roman, the genius,

playing with his chemistry set.

Shut up.

I'm a reminder of what
he could have been

if you two had never
gone to that place.

But we did.

Why are you still holding
onto this fantasy?

What, you think if you help
Crawford with this att*ck,

you'll find some fairy-tale
ending with daddy and daughter?

Live happily ever after?

That doesn't exist for us.

I'm not listening
to you anymore.

She's right. If you're
looking for happiness,

this isn't how to achieve it.

No? Then what do you suggest?

Walk away. Let go.

It's a little late for that.

When are you going to tell her?

Tell me what?

She'll find out soon enough.

Tell me what, Roman?!

Am I interrupting something?

No. I was just, um...

It doesn't matter.

It's been 12 hours.

You got something to show me?

Oh, my God.
Can you really do this?

Absolutely.

If we do, there's no going back.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Ugh! Even her encryption's
got encryption.

Maybe you need more fuel.
What have we got here?

We've got... ooh, glass noodles.

That's it!

- It's glass noodles?
- I'm in.

Brute force actually
worked for once.

Seriously?

Boom... Lynnette's documents,
downloads, emails...

Wait. Look.

This email was sent
to HCI Global this morning.

Subject line, "Codes"?

Wow. Very original, Lynnette.

Oh, my God.

That's why she wanted
this laptop back,

why she was willing
to risk prison.

This email is full
of secret access codes.

They're all in
the 60-digit format

used by
Franklin-Dorfman Security.

These protect some of the most

secure buildings in Manhattan...

New York Public Library,

Madison Square Garden, MoMa...

All of which reset daily.

Each of these codes
is only useful

for the next 24 hours,
which means...

Crawford's gonna hit one or all

of these buildings tomorrow.