All language subtitles for The.Hunting.Party.S01E08.720p.WEB.H264-JFF

Previously
on "The Hunting Party"...

Dr. Dulles,
you have a visitor.

Hi, Dad.

Who was that speaking
with Dr. Dulles just now?

That was his son.

I'm Dr. Dulles' daughter.

He doesn't have a son.

This is the third time
I've caught you watching me.

Care to tell me
why you've been

pretending to be my brother?

Depends how much time
you got.

Oliver's not
lying about this.

There's something
going on in Silo 12

that we are not
supposed to see,

and it has to do
with the blast.

Which is why we have
to see for ourselves.

Yeah, great.
All three of us.

This wasn't a breach.

It was a massacre.

I know this drug.

It's the same one
they gave Richard Harris.

♪ I can feel it coming
in the air tonight ♪

♪ Oh, Lord

♪ I've been waiting
for this moment ♪

♪ For all my life

♪ Oh, Lord

We believe that art
is an act of creation.

But when a sculptor approaches
a raw block of marble,

is she creating?

No, she's attacking it.

Disfiguring it.

Obliterating.

Art is destruction,
not construction.

Art is death.

The tragic playwrights
of ancient Greece,

they understood this.

Destroy an object's purity.

Bend it to your will.

Take that raw material, and
you shape it into a statement.

It must shock.

No one can resist
a catastrophe.

It pulls at the imagination,

stirs raw emotion.

An artist has to call forth
something so awful

that it will forever be seared
into the viewer's psyche,

something for which
the artist will be remembered.

Uh--

Professor Glenn,
come with us.

I am not finished.

Denise Glenn,
you are under arrest

for the murder of six people.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can
and will be used against you

in a court of law.

♪ I can feel it coming
in the air tonight ♪

♪ Oh, Lord

- Denise!
- Professor Glenn! Professor!

Do you have anything to say?

Denise!

♪ Oh, Lord

♪ Can you feel it coming
in the air tonight? ♪

♪ Oh, Lord

♪ Oh, Lord,
oh, Lord ♪

♪ Oh, Lord

♪ Oh, Lord

Your folks
look like good people.

Sort of.

I mean, don't get me wrong,
I had a great childhood.

But, you know, my parents
kept secrets from me

my whole life.

My dad and I were never close
for many reasons.

I always knew he was hiding
things from my mom and I.

His work, which he never
talked about,

always came first.

Speaking of your dad's work,
um,

right before my mom died,

she admitted to me that
I wasn't her biological child.

I was adopted.

She explained to me that they'd
been having trouble conceiving

and that a doctor
had approached them

about a research study
involving adopted children.

But there was one condition--
that I would meet

with Dr. Dulles, your father,
every week

for pretty much
my whole childhood.

He said he was my therapist,

but I--

Your father is the only one

who can tell me who my
biological parents really are.

Well, what does he say
when you ask him?

Different things every time.

Sometimes he remembers
a woman, you know,

but not her name
or what she looks like.

And other times, he just
rambles about old experiments.

Right, yeah, because his mind
is completely gone.

Sarah, it's not.
He--he recognizes me.

It's in moments, but he does.

And I--and I think if I can
get him to see me,

like, really see me,
he--he will remember.

I know this is the last thing
you need right now.

I do, and I'm sorry.

But I just want to know
who I am.

Please.

I'll think about it.

I told you everything
I know about Silo 12.

How do we even know
you're telling the truth?

You don't, but I am.

Look, I swear to you,
I don't know

any of the names of the people
who met in that boardroom, OK?

All I know is that
that is where our scientists

would present their research.
- To who?

OK? Defense contractors,
Big Pharma, CEOs and bigwigs.

OK, so any of these
bigwigs could have been

responsible for the blast.
- Yes.

What company was there
the morning of the blast?

I told you I don't know!

No, but you knew
that Silo 12 had been breached

minutes before the Pit
exploded.

How?
- My contact told me.

Your contact?

Did your contact
also instruct you

to pull terabytes
of classified Pit data

from the mainframe?

Or was that your own
bright idea?

We have CCTV footage
of your office

minutes before the blast.

In the event of a breach,
it's the warden's duty

to secure data.

That was just protocol.

- Protocol.
- Yeah, I was doing my job.

Good job.

Have you been
using that footage

to poison Bex against me
this whole time?

Are you guys done,
or do I need to get

a tape measure to settle this?

Come on, back off.

Enough.
We're after the same thing.

Yeah, what's that?

The truth,
for crying out loud.

Just got another hit.

All right.

I'll get my people
to analyze this IV bag,

and we'll know who made it
within 48 hours.

Great. Till then,
please stay on track.

We're up.

Victim was just found
on a park bench in St. Louis.

Throat slit, then posed.

That's the MO
of Muse Murderer Denise Glenn.

She came to the Pit in 2015.

Looks like she's back at it.

Well, I wish
it were that simple.

Right, we know
exactly where she is.

How?

We pulled her
out of the rubble

a couple hours
after the blast.

Morales, pull up the status
report for inmate number E27.

OK, but if it's not Denise,

who's out there
doing her kills?

Denise Glenn
was pulled from the rubble

six hours after the blast.

OK, is it possible
this is a random copycat?

Well, the killings did
make a splash in the media.

They were studied,
written about, speculated on.

So could it be,
like, a superfan?

To have a copycat emerge
weeks after

a mass exodus from the Pit?

It's too coincidental.

Well, assuming it is just
some other escaped Pit inmate,

why would they
take on Denise's MO

instead of returning
to their own?

What were her
Pit treatments like?

Uh, one-on-one talk therapy
with the Pit psychologist.

OK, can we talk
to the psychologist?

No, he died in the blast.

But we do have video
of the sessions

and of something else.

Denise was allowed to sculpt,

just her alone, closely
monitored in a therapy room.

- What'd she make?
- Clay figurines.

Morales, can you
review those tapes

and find anything,
no matter how small,

that might shed some light?
- On it.

And, Shane, you said
all the prisoners were siloed.

But were there any
instances where they

conversed with each other?

There were rumors,

like tapping on walls,
passing of notes,

but I never saw anything,
and they were

always blindfolded
outside their cells.

She never had contact
with any other inmates.

She found a way to convert
someone to her cause.

You've got Denise in custody.

Why don't we just ask her?

Look, I want to catch
this killer as much as anyone,

but before I make that call,
I need concrete proof

that this was done
by an escapee

and not some copycat.

Then you'd all better
get to St. Louis fast.

Find that proof before our
mystery inmate kills again.

Why did you kill
the ballerina?

It wasn't about the killing.

It was an act of reverence.

I saw a true artist at work.

The power, beauty,
grace of those limbs.

What I saw,
I saw the embodiment

of the essence of dance.

It was a perfect tribute
to Terpsichore.

So you destroyed her?

I didn't destroy her.

I immortalized her.

By cutting her throat?

A dancer in their prime
has, what,

five, ten good years
in her career

before she withdraws
into obscurity?

No one is going
to forget her now,

thanks to me.

At age 35,
Denise Glenn was the youngest

tenured art history professor
at St. Louis University

and the only one with
six homicides to their name.

Bit of an underachiever, huh?

Well, Denise
considered herself an artist

first and foremost.

Her obsession
with death and tragedy

came through in her writings
and lectures,

but at the end of the day,

her life was actually
pretty boring.

Came from a stable,
loving home.

No major abuse or trauma.

Do you think some people
are just born bad?

I think there's
some debate about that.

Some people aren't equipped
with the ability

to empathize with others,
and that can evolve

into sociopathy,
acute narcissism, or worse.

In this case, it became
Denise's little art project.

What's with all
the different names?

Each kill was an homage
to a specific Greek muse.

Victims were
gifted high achievers

at the top of their field,
and their deaths

were offerings to the muses
that supposedly

gave them these talents.

Ballet starlet
for the muse of dance,

an award-winning author
for the muse of epics,

and our copycat took a page
right out of her book.

Killed a cellist for Euterpe,
the muse of music.

- How many muses are there?
- Nine.

OK, show-off.

Oh, my kids really love
Greek mythology.

Denise only made it through
six of the nine muse killings

before she was caught.

So she never finished her--
her project.

- Nope.
- So there's, what, three left?

Two after the cellist.

Urania, the muse of astronomy,

and Erato, the muse of mimicry.

How are we supposed
to get out ahead of that?

Mimicry is, like--
like, mimes, right?

Uh...

Close.
It's more like mimics.

- That makes sense.
- Yeah.

Denise's case file
referred to a sketchbook.

Police broke the case off of
grainy CCTV of a hooded figure

completing the sixth muse,
and in the video,

the figure is referring
to a sketchbook.

But post-arrest,
police never found it.

They looked everywhere.

Well, that sketchbook
sounds like a how-to manual

to complete Denise's killings.

Maybe--maybe she told
our inmate where to find it.

Well, assuming it was
an escaped inmate.

All right,
this vic is a street musician.

He's performed in parks
all over the city.

Seems like people
loved this guy.

Give us five, please.
- Of course.

The killer posed him in
the act, just like the others.

Denise always made
her victims celebrate

their artistry, even in death.

The attention to detail
is impressive.

But a superfan could get
all this from the newspapers.

Wait, wait, wait.
Hold on.

Epsilon for Euterpe.

There's our proof.
- I don't follow.

The medical examiner's report
said that each victim

had a Greek letter
carved into them.

That's not a detail that was
disclosed to the press.

A superfan wouldn't know that.

But an inmate with access
to Denise's sketchbook would.

How's that for concrete?

We have to talk to Denise,
Hassani--now.

I'll make the call.
You go back to headquarters.

You can interview
the professor there.

What are you guys
gonna do?

Well, I had Morales pull
the local police blotter.

There was a break-in
at the university archives

a couple of nights ago.

Seems more than a coincidence.

OK.
Keep me posted.

- Yeah.
- Yep.

It's all yours.

Let's go.

She here?

Any minute.

OK, well, I went over
the court transcripts.

I've never seen megalomania
like this before.

Denise went against
the advice of her attorneys

and spent hours
in court preaching

about her place in history.

She even convinced
her first lawyer

to help her with
an unsuccessful escape attempt.

Easy slam dunk
for the prosecution, at least?

Bex, I know that you're
more than capable

of handling Denise on your own.

I am.

But let's be real.

Two is always better than one.

Especially us two.

Got my back?

Always.

Handle this.
We could do--

She's here.

It's like riding a bike.

Absolutely.

Oh, Warden, I was really
hoping that you were dead.

Denise Glenn,
I am Special Agent Henderson,

and I see you've
already met the warden.

I never forget a pretty face,

and yours will be one
that I will certainly remember.

Perfect bone structure,
strong chin,

and a beauty mark
that draws the eye in

just the right amount.

- OK, let's start--
- Professor Gl--

Oh.

Do you guys want to take five
and gather your thoughts?

No, we're quite all right.
Why don't you go ahead?

There's a crime scene
in St. Louis

with your name all over it.

We know the killer
was a fellow Pit inmate.

I would like
a drink of water.

Please.

Should you deny my request,
might I remind you of my right

to water, apropos the
United Nations Resolution 64?

So the victim was posed
playing a cello,

surrounded by sheet music
that spelled out Euterpe.

May I?

Sure.

Hmm.

That is very nice work.

Very, very nice indeed.

Who did it, Professor Glenn?

Well, how am I
supposed to know?

I've been stuck in a box.

No, you converted
an inmate to your cause.

So who was it?

It was me!

I teleported out of my cell
and I committed the murder.

And then I jumped
into my time machine

and I made my merry way
to Dallas, where I shot JFK.

Who's your apprentice?

I'd rather talk about your
apprentice right now, Warden.

Slight age gap,
subtle deference.

Yeah, you want to make
him proud, don't you?

But at the same time,
remind him that you

are as formidable as he is.

Maybe even a little bit more.

Hmm.

That's some psychological
projection right there.

Yeah, it's a classic
defense mechanism.

I'm actually a bit bummed.

I thought she would be
way more original than that.

What's next, turn the tables,
drive a wedge between us?

I think so, yeah.

Call it women's intuition,

but I just have
this pesky feeling that

that wedge is already there.

But you still care about her,
don't you, Warden?

In fact, you would do anything
for your apprentice.

Just like I would do
anything for mine.

So tell me, why on earth
would I betray them

when they have just been
so loyal?

Welcome, traveler.

Have you come
to see your future?

Come on in.

She didn't deny
it was an inmate.

That's as good a confirmation
as we're gonna get.

But we still have no leverage.

How are we gonna make her talk?

We have to make her
uncomfortable.

Get her on her back foot.

We'll need to bluff her.
- Carefully.

We get caught with our pants
down, there's no going back.

Guys, I was reviewing
Denise's sculpting videos.

You need to take a look.

Nothing was taken,
but I had to report it

'cause the guy
busted a window to get in.

Probably $400 or $500 to fix.

They don't make windows
like that anymore,

so we special-order them.

Ah.

So this row is all
about Greco-Roman art?

If you say so.

I'm not a librarian.

Take your time.
- Thank you.

Thanks.

Hey.

Hmm?

Our killer knew exactly where
to find Denise's sketchbook.

When I saw that mirror,
I obviously

started wondering who was
watching from the other side.

It's an observation room for
scientists and psychologists.

And for inmates.

- Inmates?
- Yeah.

Before you were hired,
Denise's therapist

would have his other patients
watch Denise sculpt.

How do you know that?

I found a pattern
in the treatment logs.

See, whenever Denise
was in here being filmed,

a simultaneous video
for a separate treatment

was being shot in room O62.

Over the next few years,
a dozen inmates

were put in that room
on rotation.

I pulled the other
inmates' files.

Psychologists called it
fixation displacement therapy.

Let me guess--they were all
stalker obsessive types

with mommy issues.
- Yeah.

The aim was to transfer
their obsession onto Denise

so that the doctor
could observe it,

understand it, and control it.

But they never
got to interact?

No, but I did find this.

They gave them her figurines.

- Yeah. Major ick.
- OK, sorry.

This is assuming
that Denise knows

about all this,
which is a massive if.

But that still
doesn't explain

how she convinced
one of these 12 inmates

to go complete her life's work.

But somehow she did.

Hey, we just had a big break.

Same here.

Denise hid her sketchbook
in the university library.

Her apprentice broke in
three days ago to get it.

Now we just need
to narrow down

a list of potential suspects.

Six confirmed dead,
six unaccounted for.

Six is better than 12.

But how do we know
which of the six

is Denise's apprentice?

Denise is still the only one
who can confirm their identity.

And she is very happy
to have us spin our wheels,

knowing that it
gives her apprentice

more and more time to kill.

So then we use
that arrogance against her.

Play into it somehow.

She would love to outsmart us.

I got it.
OK.

We're gonna swap them all.

We'll label
the dead ones missing

and the missing ones dead.

We'll see if we can
provoke a reaction.

Let's have them all
reprinted, OK?

- There she is.
- Yeah.

On second thought,
I think I would rather have

a vodka martini
with a splash of vermouth.

And if you want
to make me really happy,

then a little twist of lemon.

You are so enjoying this,
aren't you?

Sure. Yeah.

It's been a while
since I've been able

to flex my creativity
even just a little bit.

Hey, Denise,
did you enjoy being ogled

through the observation window?

I always imagined
that it was some bored,

perverted scientist.

Women have a sixth sense
of when they're being studied.

Don't we, Agent Henderson?

Some know how to use it
to their advantage.

Oh, like by getting
whoever was on the other side

of that mirror to find
your plans and carry them out?

Is that what you mean?

We know there were
blueprints.

So what was it?

A sketchbook?
Journal?

"Muse Murders for Dummies"?

What do you have there?

We have identified
12 suspects

as your potential apprentice.

Oh.

Well, come on, then.

Let's see them.

Mm...

OK.

You know what?

Forget the twist of lemon.

I'll take it dirty.

Call for you.

- You saw that, right?
- Oh, yes.

Her face said it all.
That's definitely our guy.

Swapping the status
was genius.

Craig Martin
is Denise's apprentice.

At least now we know
who we're looking for.

Problem is, can we stop him
before he hurts someone else?

Hmm.

Deep lines.

Lines of struggle,

of survival,

of resilience.

You know darkness.

But there's a silver lining.

Rarely do I see
a lifeline this long.

Hmm, you have such...

wonderful things ahead.

How long is your lifeline?

- Let go!
- Tell me.

How long is yours?

I'd like you to leave--now.

One more thing first.

What is that?

Your future.

Wanna see?

Oh, no.

No.

Please, just go.

Craig Martin,
the only child

of Elaine Martin,
father unknown.

Elaine, on top of several
citations for prostitution,

struggled with
a heroin addiction

throughout Craig's childhood.

Little Craig got
a front-row seat not just

to her drug habit
but how she paid for it.

She was a junkie, man,
turning tricks for a fix.

And me, I was the kid
in the closet,

hiding while she got screwed
by some lowlife

who couldn't even
look her in the eye.

Some of the johns would give
me a $5 bill, a candy bar.

Even they cared
more than she did.

To her, I was just
a stain on the mattress.

Just imagine
who I could have been

if I had a mother
that baked cookies

and tucked me in at night.

OK, I think we get the point.

Martin grew up with
a severe attachment disorder

and serious anger issues
towards women.

At 22, he started killing women
he met on dating apps.

He'd obsess over them,
stalk them,

and eventually rig their cars
with explosives.

Charming, yet another reason
I stay away from dating apps...

and men.

That all tracks.

Craig was a man
with zero sense of self,

negatively defined
by the women in his life.

And psychologists knew this,
gave him someone to fixate on,

a mother figure,

someone that he could idealize.

Someone who could never
reject him.

For a woman like that,
he'd do anything.

Cause of death
is asphyxiation by pendulum.

That's new.

Urania.

Muse of astronomy.

There's only one left.

Erato, muse of mimicry.

We're running out of time.

So then we go in there
with everything.

We tell her we know
it's Craig Martin.

It won't change anything.

Like she said,
why would I betray someone

when they've been
so loyal to me?

Then we have
to play her game.

We have to drive a wedge
between them.

No, you're right.

And I think I know how.

Does anyone know Photoshop?

Anyone, Photoshop?

All right, Denise,
I hope you've had

a fun little sabbatical here.

But unfortunately,
it's time to send you back.

What happened?

Well, we know
who your apprentice is.

It's just a matter of time
before we catch him.

- Oh, really?
- Mm-hmm.

How?

Seems your apprentice
just couldn't resist

making his own mark.

H63.

That's a Pit inmate number,
and it belongs

to Craig Martin.

You gotta admire
the balls on this dude.

Signing his work,
taking credit for your project.

Mm, it's pretty typical
of someone

with his anger issues
towards women.

Ooh.
- Oh.

Well, hey, either way,
enjoy the ride

back to wherever it is they're
keeping murderous psychopaths

these days.
- Mm.

You ever think about
becoming an actor?

Yeah.

For about a day
after my seventh grade

performance
in "Into the Woods."

I killed it.

But why did you leave?

It seems like you guys
have her on the ropes.

It's all part of the plan.

One-on-one makes the suspect
less defensive.

Now it's up to Bex to bring
this over the finish line.

Denise, I get it.

Men have been taking credit
for my hard work

most of my career too.

I don't want
to go back into a box.

Yeah, uh, well, you're never
getting out of prison

'cause the whole world
thinks you're dead, so...

Yeah, but you could
send me somewhere else.

Yeah, maybe.

You'd have to give us
a little something in return,

like maybe where Craig Martin
might be going next.

He's signing your work,
Denise.

And when we catch him,
because we will,

someone else will be remembered
for your life's work

and you will be forgotten.

OK, fine.

Let your apprentice
finish your work for you.

Let Craig Martin
get all the notoriety.

If I tell you
how to catch Craig,

you have to guarantee me
that the world never

learns his name.

Deal.

The final kill honors Erato,

the muse of mimicry.

Back when I was teaching,
the head of my department

liked to borrow content
from my lectures

and claim
that they were his own ideas.

His death was to be
my pièce de résistance.

He was your mimic.

And whoever holds
that position now

is about to meet my star pupil.

When you create art,
you and only you

bring something to the world
that speaks

to our shared experience.

What is he going there
to do, Denise?

You'll see.

Four miles on the 163
and you'll be

at the university.

The current head
of SLU's School of the Arts

is Professor Everett Fogarty.

You were right.

A narcissist like that, all we
had to do was target her ego.

Let's hope Shane
and Hassani get to him

before Craig Martin does.

Just got CCTV footage
confirming

Craig Martin's on campus.

Morales, get Professor
Fogarty on the phone.

Tell him to call
campus security

and to lock himself
in his office.

I tried his phone,
but it's off.

He's teaching right now.

Wilson Hall, lecture hall two.

That's Denise's
old lecture hall.

What? What's wrong?

I don't know.
Something just feels too easy.

Craig Martin is on campus.

Our team will have him
in hand any minute.

Mm-hmm.

What's not sitting right?

She's just--she's too calm.

She's smug.

Something's not right.

Our agents
are at the lecture hall.

They're gonna
stop Craig Martin.

- All going to plan, isn't it?
- Yeah.

You know,
there's just one thing

I don't understand, Denise.

Just the one?

Yeah.

Maybe you knew
people were watching you

during your art therapy
sessions.

Maybe you didn't.

But I do know that you didn't
speak to Craig directly.

So...

how'd you get him
to find the sketchbook?

Socrates knew
that the job of a teacher

is to prompt the student
to ask the right questions.

Finally,
we're getting somewhere.

When you create art, you are
contributing to the narrative

of life itself.

Is something wrong?

Please return to your--

Don't be afraid.

I'm here with a message

from Professor Denise Glenn.

So then you did have a
direct conversation with Craig?

The Gestalt principle
tells us

that the whole is greater
than the sum of its parts.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Put simply for a door kicker
like yourself,

what that means
is that the true message

of a final composition
cannot possibly emerge

until all the pieces
have been placed.

Hey, Denise, OK, we went
through all the recordings.

You guys never spoke
when the walls were...

up.

When the walls came down.

Gold star, Agent Henderson.

So, what, you were trapped?
He came to find you?

Mm.

I'd never seen this man
before in my life,

but he was like a little boy
who just found Mommy.

He told me the hour a week
he got to watch me sculpt

was his only reason for living.

He tried so hard to lift
that piece of wall off me.

Oh, you should have seen him.

Desperate to save me.

It was kind of pathetic, really.

I mean, I was his whole world.

Which is how I knew

that Craig Martin would never
take credit for my work.

It was how I knew
that the photograph was a lie.

Because when my Craig
is finished,

he will publish my book
for the whole world to see.

"My muses grip humanity
by the face

"and pry open their eyes,

forcing their raw"--

Everyone just remain
in your seats.

This is the FBI.

Craig Martin,
get on the ground!

Everyone get up. Stay calm.
Everybody just get out.

Craig, put it down.
It's not worth it. It's over.

Move towards the exit.
Go, go, go!

Yah!

Craig, stop!

Good job. Good job.

OK.

We got him.

Good work, everybody.

- We got him.
- It isn't over.

Craig wasn't just there
to kill the professor.

Hassani, do you have
the sketchbook?

Yes.

OK, find Erato.

Erato.

This is a sketch
of this lecture hall.

But it's engulfed in flames.

Craig doesn't start fires.

He builds bombs.
C-4 on timers.

What did he have on him?

Nothing except the book.

Guys, when Craig
arrived on campus,

he was wearing a backpack.

There is a bomb
in that backpack.

Find the backpack.

We got a little bit
of a problem.

Florence,
pull the fire alarm.

Guys, come on.

Tell us something.

We're looking.

What color is the backpack?

Dark blue or black.

That's pretty much
all of them.

Hey.

Hey!
Which one is it?

Tell me, or we all die.

I'm grateful
for my place in history.

Hey, I found it.

OK, time to go.

I'll get the scumbag.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.

This kind of bomb could
take out the whole building.

There's six stories
above our heads.

There are dozens of classrooms
and lecture halls.

They'll never
make it out in time.

Can you defuse it?

I'm gonna have to try.

Go.
- No.

There's no way I'm leaving.

What?
What are you doing?

You have a family.

This is what we do.

Guys!

I'm gonna cut
this green wire.

You take that red one out.

But it needs to happen
simultaneously, OK?

Copy.
You know what you're doing?

Only one way to find out.

Ready?
Three, two, one, go.

We're clear.

Mm. Whoa.

Come on home, boys.

It's been a minute since I've
been in a situation like that.

Of all the places
I thought death

would come for me
over the years--

Kabul, Peshawar, Caracas--

gotta be honest, St. Louis
was never on that list.

How about you?

How does this guy
fall asleep so fast?

It's the soothing sound
of your voice, buddy.

Aw.

How's your team?

Will you be sending flowers
to their families?

Yeah, let me see.

I think the total
body count was...

zero.

Because, well,
we caught Craig Martin,

and then
we defused the bomb, so...

- You're lying.
- Am I? You sure about that?

- That's mine.
- No, no, no.

This artifact belongs in
the National Archives, Denise.

I mean, come on.

Look at this.

You can't let that go to waste.

Stunning work. I'm so sorry
you didn't get to finish.

It's amazing.

You know where else this
would look good, actually?

Might look good
right here in the trash.

Aw, but don't worry, Denise.

I mean,
think about it this way.

Most great artists,
they're not recognized

in their own time anyways.

And then, well,
some artists,

they're actually
not remembered at all.

Bye, Professor.

Wait!

OK.

Not bad hand-eye coordination
for a self-proclaimed nerd.

- Mm-hmm.
- Now...

watch the real master at work.

Are these even
regulation darts?

Yeah.
Don't take it so hard.

My dad used to own a bar

and I'd smoke all my brothers
growing up, so...

Hmm.

- Hey!
- Nice work, you guys.

Well, we couldn't have done
it without our shot callers.

Cheers to that.

Here, have a drink.

You earned it.

Oh, thank you.

- Hey.
- Cheers.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

So we playing
for money or what?

Yeah.

But I gotta warn you, Shane,

they're not regulation darts.

- Mm.
- Nice.

Hey, got a minute?

Checked in with my people
on the flight back.

We found the name
of the biotech firm

that made the IV bag--

Whitmore Sciences.

Ever hear of them?

Run by some heavy hitter
named James Whitmore.

Specializes
in dual-use chemicals.

Silicon Valley, backed by
hedge funds, the whole shebang.

But that is not
what caught my attention.

That is Whitmore.

That's Senator Long
from Wyoming.

And that...

AG Mallory?

Well, now we know
why she wanted

to keep a lid on things.

Hey.

Sorry, I was busy
losing money to a friend.

What?

After we talked, I went
into my dad's old office.

What is this?

Who are you?

Hello, Denise.

You.

What do you want with me?

Well, you have something
that doesn't belong to you.

No.

Don't do this.
No, don't do this!

No!
Ah--

I'm sorry, Professor.