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Where is she?

Where is she?

Oh, no.

No!

Oh, no!

- No.
- It's all right.

W-We need to find her.

No, we don't.

Who-who are you?

I'm the one you let in.

I'm the one who let you in.

I know who you are.

I see you.

I think we both know that isn't true.

You okay?

Yes.

Write your name on there.

- Why?
- Go on.

Which one?

Your real one.

This is something I used to do early on

to help me get my head straight
before I stepped into a new op.

Yeah, all right. Now, put it in there.

Yeah, go on, in the water.

Yeah.

Now, see, your name...

is still in there somewhere.

But it's got to let go
of you for a while,

and you got to let go of it.

Huh?

When you walk out the door,

it stays behind, you know?

And you figure out a way

to put it back together again
when it's time.

Far be it from me to tell you
how to do your job,

but that seems like
a problematic metaphor.

Oh?

This isn't reversible.

In any way.

Whate-Whatever this is,
it can't go back to what it was.

Oh...

I see.

That's the price you pay
for your line of work.

Um, that's the price you pay
for waking up in the morning.

Merci, monsieur.

Everything's in free fall, all the time.

We're not wired to cope with that,

so we've all agreed to pretend
that it isn't happening.

But it is.

What about you?

How different are you now
than you were then?

Oh. You mean, now that, uh,
your life is in my hands,

you're curious whether
I'm up to whatever

we're gonna find out there?

Ah.

I guess we're about to find out.

I-I've never
second-guessed about your work,

and I'm not gonna start now.

But this is bad, Harold.

What are you hearing?

That you aided and abetted

the escape of a fugitive spy.

And that you may have then
tried to have that spy murdered

to prevent his capture.

I mean, we've-we've seen people
ruined for less.

Well, we've seen people weather worse.

Not whole.

Not in any form
that we recognized after.

A-A lawyer called this morning,

and as he was telling me
how he could help us,

I realized that this person
would be happy to take

every cent that we have to defend you.

We've definitely seen that.

I mean, that happens all the time.

And I looked at Henry.

And it was all I could do
not to lose it.

What'd you say to him?

Oh, I didn't know what to say.

I... I handed the phone off.

You handed...

Is your sister there?

No.

Hold on, he wants to talk to you.

Who?

Harold, I came as soon as I heard.

Are you all right?

Cheryl mentioned it was a rough flight

between you and Angela.

Is my wife in the room with you?

No, she's just gone to put Henry to bed.

Good.

What the fuck do you think happened?

I see.

You planted a mole in my office.

You made me an accessory

to I don't know how many crimes.

I gave you a daughter.

That was the result.
I want to know the intent.

What difference does the intent
make with that result?

It makes some difference to me.

Because he asked.

Despite all he'd done,
I s... I still loved him.

And he asked me

to help him protect his only child,

so I did as he asked.

The same as I would have done for you.

The same as I can do for you...

now.

You're gonna help me now?

Ask me to fix this, Harold,

and I will.

How?

I have always felt some
connection to those surgeons

on the battlefields of the Civil War.

In the middle of all that suffering,

armed only with a saw for the bone

and dope for the pain,

and asked

to do the unthinkable...

sever the parts to save the whole.

I've always felt
that is my profession too.

To ignore the blood and the wailing

and decide what allows for

the greatest possible good.

It's what I taught you to do,

so I imagine you can
see where this is going.

If Angela Adams
is never heard from again,

this can all be laid at her feet.

And you can be free of it.

No.

That identity may have been
born out of love,

but it has become malignant.

A danger to the things
it's connected to.

Even the girl herself might be saved,

if she can separate from the name.

Out in the wild, maybe
she can find a way to recover.

I hear Cheryl returning.

Tell me where you are.

Ask me for my help...

...and you will get it.

Is everything all right at home?

Yeah.

It'll be a lot better
when I get back there.

Yes, it will.

I think you may be right.

I'm always right.

You're gonna have to be more specific.

Bote.

That he might be slipping.

I thought you said he was fine
when you sat with him.

I did.

Told myself he seemed fine.

Told you he seemed fine.

Been telling myself he seemed fine

over and over again, all the way here.

Then I'm realizing anything
I got to tell myself

that many times maybe isn't
as true as I want it to be.

Look, I get it.

You've been through a lot with him.

So it makes sense
that you don't want to see

that it may be all coming to an end.

I think that's the problem.

It can't just come to an end.

Everything comes to an end.

Yeah,
but someone's got to do what he does.

Keep an eye on the world
the way he does.

Know the game the way he does.

Who's gonna do it if it isn't him?

What he's asking of us here...

...it's a lot to ask.

And if he's wrong
about any part of it...

...we're gonna be up a fucking creek.

Monsieur. Merci, monsieur.

I need to understand what this is.

Yeah, all right.

Well, this afternoon
is Pavlovich's reception.

Now, we gain entrance.

Uh, I-I make contact.
And then somehow...

I don't know...
I convince him to help us.

To kill Faraz Hamzad.

- Yeah.
- I understand.

But that is not what I meant.

I want to understand
how your world works.

Will you explain it to me?

Lesson number one.

All tradecraft is waged

wielding two weapons in concert.

In your left hand,

uh, is your empathy.

Your ability to read people,

know what they want, what they need.

What they fear.

What, uh, may give them hope.

Cause them shame.

And then, uh, in your other hand...

...you've got your ruthlessness.

The willingness to use all that
insight against them, uh...

And when both of those
two knives are sharp,

you'd be amazed what
they can cut through.

And that's something you're taught?

Mm-hmm.

Well, a little bit.
But I learned by doing, mostly.

Emotionally carving strangers to pieces

through trial and error sounds messy.

- Ah, you have no idea.
- Don't I?

Oh, do you?

- The day we met.
- Mm-hmm.

When you cooked for me,

told me stories and were charming,

that's what you were doing, wasn't it?

Disassembling me to see how I worked?

Applying pressure to the seams

so that I'd let you stay?

Was it difficult?

Was I difficult to
disassemble and manipulate?

It's not really a
"hard or easy" kind of thing.

Everyone's, you know,
wired so differently...

- It's really a simple question.
- Yeah, not very hard.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Okay.

I really want to know how to do this.

You haven't, uh...

heard the catch yet, though.

Oh? What's the catch?

Uh, the catch...

...is that once you turn it on
you can't turn it off.

Ever.

Now every time you meet someone,

you get close to someone,
you lay eyes on them,

you'll be thinking...

how easy it would be
to use them, you know.

Hurt 'em, discard them.

And maybe you wonder if, you know,

maybe they're doing it to you too, now.

Maybe you can never really
trust anyone ever again.

Still want me to go on?

Well, friend, I haven't
really trusted anyone

for a very long time,

so why the fuck
would I want to start now?

Lesson number two.

When communications are compromised,

always have a reserve.

Uh, Emily and I, we share this account.

Double digit primes on the left,

that means she's okay.

Crooked number that follows...

...that means she's
on her way to my location.

She's coming.

You know,
there's a pretty good chance that

he's not terribly happy to see me.

This is gonna be a lot less

Three Musketeers than you're hoping for.

You are underestimating him.

Again.

So whose idea was the reserve
comms with the bank account?

His.

It's clever.

Is that the only way
you speak to each other?

- No.
- How else?

This isn't an interrogation.

- Yes, it is.
- Okay.

Maybe it is. But not that way.

You tell me I only half know you.

I'm trying.

We speak on the phone.

- Burner phones?
- Yes.

- Where?
- Depends on the time of day,

on my way to work.

There's a garage on 10th and F.

And at night,

a playground in my neighborhood.

- What about travel?
- What about it?

When was the last time you saw him?

Fall, 2012.

What about your mother's funeral?

I didn't go.

We both felt it was too dangerous.

I wrote down what I felt I needed to say

and I asked him to put it
in the casket with her.

So, all that time...

...all you've been to him

are sounds on the phone.

A voice without a body.

- Don't do that.
- Do what?

Diminish it.

He's made sacrifices for me.

I've made sacrifices for them.

That's what it took
to protect each other.

Doesn't make him any less of a father.

What's left

when all there is is sacrifice?

Clarity.

Because I know there is nothing
he wouldn't give up for me.

Or me for him.

That's what love is.

Tell me again how you know
a person like this.

He's gonna remember you, right?

Oh, yeah.

What is that for?

Down the corridor
there is a door I've left open.

It leads to a passage

that will take you clear of the village.

I assume you can
find your way from there.

She sent you.

To release me.

Then why are my hands still bound?

You are the one they talk about.

I've heard the stories.

You are Hamzad's monster.

They say he trusts you like no other.

Clearly, his wife does too.

She's kept this from him, I assume.

He doesn't know you're here, does he?

What a contortion she's put you in.

Maybe even you aren't yet
certain what the knife is for.

Get out.

The Russian is gone.

He escaped during the night.

Somehow freed himself from his bindings.

Last night I had a dream
I have had many times before,

since I was a boy.

I'm alone.

And I sense a presence behind me.

I can feel its breath, but I am
too afraid to turn to look.

It whispers in a language
I feel I once knew

but no longer understand.

And though the words have no meaning,

I am consumed by terror.

Because I know...

...it is saying things
I am afraid to say about myself.

And I know that they are true.

And I awoke in a cold sweat,
as I always do.

And I turned to my wife,
as I always have.

And she was not there.

My wife sometimes wanders at night.

She always has.

Why? I don't know why.

There are puzzles within her
that when solved,

only ever lead to new puzzles.

I love her despite it.

Sometimes I believe
I may love her because of it.

But this...

This is something different.

She would never do this.

She would know what this would mean.

Do you know which one he is?

Yeah.

'Cause there's a lot
of old white guys here

that kind of look the same.

Uh-huh.

Second table from the stairs.

Excuse me, do you have a pen?

Thank you.

Stay here.

If anything gets weird,

I'm coming to get you

and we're going right back
where we came from.

Define weird, please.

You'll know.

Right here. Don't move.

Clear?

Hang on, I've got to grab something.

What's up?

By the exit. Tan jacket.

- Yeah.
- I'm pretty sure he's DGST.

Yeah.

Actually, I think
I introduced you to him

at some function or another.

Abdellatif somebody.

Rahmani.

I called him.

While you were in the head,
on the train.

What for?

There are two people
in my secure text contacts.

My dad.

And your grandson.

Henry texts me before he goes
to sleep at night sometimes.

Did you know that?

No, I didn't.

You should keep an eye on that.

Especially when he gets a little older.

The other night he told me
that Cheryl took him upstairs

when an old man came to visit.

Came in a big black car with a driver.

He said it scared him.

I have no idea who it might have been

but my guess is that if somebody

from the seventh floor came to
visit that you would've told me.

Unless...

whatever he had to say scared you too.

And so you called Abdellatif Rahmani

to help get me on a plane
and send me home.

- Yes.
- You shouldn't have done that.

What did the seventh floor say
that scared you?

It wasn't anyone from the Bureau.

- Who was it?
- It was Morgan Bote.

He offered to get me
off the hook for all of this

if I put you on the hook in my place.

To leave you here, behind,

to disappear into the wild,

and he would see my name
cleared at home.

And what did you say?

I told him to get the hell
out of my house.

What are you to me?

You're a complication
in my life that I didn't want.

You're a wooden toy
asking to be made real.

I can't help you there.

You're a felon. You're a traitor.

You're a threat to my family,

my career, my legacy, my life.

But when I was offered a magic wand

to just make all this
go away, to make you...

go away...

God help me, I-I couldn't
stomach the thought of it.

You should take it.

What?

You should take him up on his offer.

I'll take the hit.

No, we're not gonna do that.

I'll take it.

You and I could go round and round,

but there are other people
involved in this.

People who didn't ask to be.

And those people
go to the front of the line.

That's what my fathers taught me.

I'm going to fix this for them.

And you're gonna do your part
by letting me do it.

It won't work.

In that part of the world,
with his resources,

Faraz Hamzad is a ghost.

He cannot be approached.
He cannot be touched.

He cannot be killed,
no matter what your dad says.

Okay, I'm underestimating him.

Again.

I think we both know
that this has to happen.

Your story gets a happy ending.

I'm still not even sure
what mine is really about.

I have to go figure that out.

No matter where it takes me.

Assistant Director.

- Yeah.
- This way.

May I offer you
something to drink, ma'am?

Please.

- How much do I owe you?
- No, no, ma'am.

Got it.

It is going to be so very tempting

to blame yourself for that.

I'd suggest you resist the urge.

- You saw that, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

Not to worry, your secret
is safe with me, Zoe.

Who are you?

Let's go someplace
we can speak privately.

Take a seat.

Sergei, you are too young
to know this name.

But if you served in the Afghan War,

it was a name that made for nightmares.

Baba Ghor Ghori.

The monster from
children's make-believe...

...who once saved my life.

I wasn't sure you'd remember.

Of all the debts I've owed in my life,

I never doubted that, uh,

someday this one would be called.

Considering what it cost us
to help you escape,

I think, well,
what I'm here to ask you for

is pretty reasonable.

What happened
in the aftermath of it all?

I made inquiries,

but I was never able to find out
what came of Belour.

Oh, Belour, no.
You wouldn't have found her.

No, once she left Afghanistan,

that person ceased to exist.

And you knew the person she became.

Mm.

By another name, yes.

What name is that?

The wife.

Wife?

I don't imagine her husband
was very happy about that.

No, he was not. No.

He held a grudge for 30 years.

And he's finally gained
leverage to act on it.

Now he wants me dead.

So I got to get to him first.

What does this have to do with me?

You recruited his wife
as a Soviet asset,

you started his whole world unraveling.

He's already tried to settle
his grudge he's got with me,

what's to say

that he won't address
the one he's got with you next?

Is that what he thought?

That I recruited her?

Is that what you think?

I was student in Moscow when I met her.

I thought I was pursuing her,

but even at the time,

I think I knew it wasn't so simple.

That she was, um...

expert in triggering, uh,

the instinct to pursue.

The closer we got...

...I more felt split in two.

Half of me falling in love with her.

But, uh, the other half...

...questioning.

Does she feel the same way?

Or is this all because she knows...

...my father is GRU?

Maybe both were true.

Maybe only the latter. Who knows.

But years later...

...when I received her first overture,

offering me informations

in exchange for

undermining her husband's rivals...

...I think I knew

whatever fantasies lingered about her

were just that.

Fantasies.

You both called her "wife."

And you never knew any of that.

Hard to fathom.

Though it does make, uh,

today's events
a little easier to understand.

Today's events?

Faraz Hamzad's lawyer
is guest of mine today.

She came to say that, uh,

if I were to come across any information

concerning your whereabouts, uh,

that might win me Hamzad's favor.

Up until that moment,

I wasn't aware that was something I had

any need for.

When you see him,

tell him I said hello.

Sergei.

That's twice.

This is all going to be over shortly.

Prompt answers are
of benefit to everyone.

As far as I can tell,

there are two scenarios and only two.

You're here voluntarily
or you're here involuntarily.

Can you tell me with which I'm dealing?

How did you recognize me?

Your photo was in the police report.

From the event at your house.

My relationship with my client
forces me, from time to time,

into the most unpleasant positions.

I represent him, even in those moments,

because I'm good at it,
because it's lucrative...

...and because the moment I stop,

he will find somebody else to continue.

In this moment...

...I am trying to seize an opportunity

to maybe do something decent
in the midst of it all.

Maybe you should consider letting me.

And your client...

you could guarantee
he'd go along with that?

You're not his priority.

I can guarantee you that.

Excusez, Mrs. Dixon.

Come with me, please.

Stay right here.

At the bar.

Is that not what I said?

I did stay by the bar
until Faraz Hamzad's lawyer

told me she knew who I really was

and told me to follow her.

- She knew your name?
- Yes.

All right, you probably
had to follow her.

That's what I thought.

What did she say?

She said she could get me
out of all this safely.

Yeah, and?

What did you say?

I'm here, aren't I?

We have you surrounded!

Do not attempt to flee!

So, how do you want to do this?

Where's my daughter?

I know she was with you,
where is she now?

She's been taken.

Taken?

Taken by who?

The old man.

We're gonna go get her back.