All language subtitles for The.Accountant.2.2025.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.Atmos.H.264-FLUX

Okay, let me ask you something.

¿Qué pasa? Huh? ¿Qué pasa, eh?

Now, who's gonna win the money?

Show me!

It's time for fun right now.

Who's gonna bingo?

Okay, let's get started right now.

Here's the first ball.

And it's gonna be I-17, the dancing queen.

How many dancing queens
do we have out there tonight?

All right.

This is gonna be G-58,

make them wait.

♪ Make a man lose his head...

This is gonna be B-4, knock at the door.

B-4,

knock at the door.

On location.

Eyes on.

Eyes on.

Headed towards the alley.

She there?

Oh, yeah, she's here.

And King's still inside?

He sure is,

like a little lamb.

I want the decks cleared, Cobb,
both of them.

Understood?

Gonna watch, wait,
and I'll report back, Burke.

♪ Then she go home...

It's gonna be G-56,

was she worth it?

G-56, was she worth it?

♪ Lose his head, oh...

Oh, oh, there.

They've got lots of 'em over there.

N-41.

N-41 stands for "time for fun."

N-41.

♪ Yeah, yeah...

Hello, Ray King.

Anaïs.

Please, have a seat.

You have a job for me?

Yeah.

Here, let me, uh...

This is...

...Gino and Edith Sanchez,
their son Alberto.

They left El Salvador to come to the U.S.

Alberto would be 13 now.

He's... he's five there.

I don't kill children.

- Don't what?
- Turn your hearing aid up.

I do adults.

- I don't kill children.
- Yeah, no, no, no.

They disappeared.

I was hired to find them.

By her father.

- Number 51...
- I just...

I need you to help me.

I mean, you're really
the only person who can.

You see, I'm semiretired now,

and I'm only taking cases
that mean something to me.

What do you want, King?

Anaïs...

...do you know what
acquired savant syndrome is?

No.

But I know there are men outside,

the kind that sleep at airport gates

in Africa and the Middle East.

They didn't follow me.

Okay, they're gonna come after me.

When they do, get out of here.

♪ See-line woman...

Fuck.

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

♪ See-line...

♪ See-line woman, see-line woman...

Fuck me.

♪ Dressed in green...

♪ See-line woman...

Fuck.

♪ Wears silk stockings...

Deputy Director Medina's office.

Director Medina,
I have the LAPD on the phone for you.

Okay. Uh, chairs?

Yeah, two Herman Millers and a Steelcase.

Thanks.

This is Marybeth Medina.

Yeah.

Wait, what?

Repeat that.

Describe him, please.

No. Um...

I understand.

He didn't share what
he was working on with you?

No. Uh, I knew
he put up a P.I. shingle,

but we fell out of touch.

So no money problems
that you're aware of?

No.

Here, come this way.

Raymond King.

He was deputy director of FinCEN.

My boss.

You said they didn't find
anything on him, no wallet?

Well, he might have.

But it took us a little while
to get there.

Things have a tendency of disappearing.

Well, how'd you know to call me?

His cell phone.

You were his
"in case of emergency" contact.

Well, why'd you ask if he was
having money problems?

What's the difference between

dressy casual and business casual?

Both mean
leave your cargo shorts

and flip-flops at home.

I don't own cargo shorts,
and I don't own flip-flops.

Could we discuss business now,

or do you need more first-date tips?

Go.

The Inagawa-kai want you to audit a bank
before they assume control.

Thoughts?

You're very conspicuous in Tokyo.

But?

The yakuza always pay on time.

Next.

Señor Obregon wants to know
if we want payment in cash or artwork.

What art does he have?

A Rivera he says you admired.

How much does he owe?

2.4 million.

The Rivera, of course.

Heavy sigh.

What's the remainder of the receivables?

1.35 million.

Layer the rest in the New Zealand
accounts and in France,

and the remainder in Harbor's endowment.

Under what name?

Gauss, Babbage or Carroll?

Nash. Anything else?

Don't wear your black suit.

It makes you look like a mortician.

♪ Love is like candy on a shelf...

Well, welcome to the 13th annual

Boise Romance Festival.

Whoa.

You all are here for one reason:

to make a connection,
meet that special someone

and find love.

Oh, P.S. Don't forget to pick up your free

- Romance Festival T-shirt.
- Ooh.

- A $25 value there.
- Yeah.

So, since
most of you are first-timers,

let's recap how this works.

You answered a battery of questions

designed to express your wants,
needs, hopes and desires.

We then used our proprietary
mathematical algorithm

to search for your ten best fits.

That same algorithm

in 12 previous festivals
has resulted in...

53 marriages!

All right, give it up for that.

Hell yeah. Whoo!

Uh, now,
no names were sent to you.

Only the I.D. numbers and photos

ranked in order of connectivity.

No early
online searches allowed.

You'll each
spend five minutes per date,

then unlimited time later in the day.

Oh, ladies,
it's-it's not a competition.

No, there's plenty of time
to get to your first date last.

Hold your horses.

Um, o-okay.

Go ahead, go on.
Go meet that special someone.

- Godspeed. Nondenominational.
- Yes.

- Hi.
- Hello.

Um, I'm Ann Renee.

And I just love, love, love accountants.

Oh. Well, that's a coincidence.

Yeah.

Um, do you believe in love at first sight,

that there's someone
we're meant to be with,

a soulmate?

Well, no, that's a...
absurd, childish notion.

Of-of course that's not real.

What do you mean,
you reverse-engineered our algorithm?

I data-mined the top online dating apps

and mapped a battery
of your questions against theirs.

And?

I built my own dating algorithm.

Well, the question of whether or not

there's such a thing as love
or it's simply an electrical,

- neurochemical process...
- Right. Okay.

...that takes place in the brain
is up for debate.

Whoa.

Uh, have a good day.

I scraped the data clusters for

the likeliest date-producing words.

- Wait. "Date-producing words"?
- Yes.

For example, women claim
to value commitment and stability,

but they swipe for dangerous and exciting.

Sexy bad boys.

Hi.

How are you?

Um, I'm doing really well.

- Lori.
- Yeah, Lori.

Is that a nickname or short for anything?

No, it's just Lori.

Oh.

I assigned numerical values

to your questions by tokenizing them
in an embedding matrix

and generating a predictive model
for the most effective answers,

which I provided without lying.

My last boyfriend spent every weekend
golfing with his friends.

Do you spend a lot of time with friends?

No, not at all. No.

I have no friends.

No friends.

Um, pets?

I identified
misleading profile photos

as the top complaint
across all dating apps.

Women lie about weight and age.

Men lie about height and age.

So I adjusted my photo
and smile accordingly.

♪ Sweet dreams...

Oh, my God.

I like camping.

- A lot.
- So do I.

- Yeah, I thought I saw...
- Yeah.

...an Airstream in one of your photos?

- Yes, that's my home.
- Uh...

That's where I live.

Oh, permanently?

Well, as long as I'm alive.

None of us are living anywhere
permanently.

- Okay.
- This is just a husk.

- Okay. Oh.
- Eventually,

this body will be a corpse.

And the best part is you don't
have to amend your tax return

for unclaimed depreciation,

which I'm sure you know
is very meaningful.

Not only does it have
that unintended benefit,

but the best part is that
you don't have to amend your tax return

for unclaimed depreciation.

And I will share this with you
even though it's a...

well, it's a bit of a trade secret,

albeit not a proprietary one,
but the best part is that

you don't have to amend your tax return
for unclaimed depreciation.

Yeah, um, how about something else?

Um, kids?

You're... 44?

Um, 45.

Well, I suppose anything's possible.

Ugh. God.

I just mean mathematically.

You gamed the system?

I optimized my profile.

Whole wall covered top to bottom.

Damnedest thing you ever saw.

Maps, Post-it Notes, sicko photos.

Like something out of one of those
"let's catch us a pervert" shows.

Busy little bee, wasn't he?

Wh-What did you do with his stuff?

Oh, we didn't throw it away.

Couldn't rent it like that,
all those nasty photos he had.

How long was he here?

Two months.

Next payment was due yesterday.

The rent... how much?

Harbor Neuroscience Academy.

Yeah, this is, uh,

Deputy Director Medina,
U.S. Treasury Department.

Is there a Christian Wolff on staff?

- I'm sorry, ma'am. No.
- Okay.

Um, how about a Carl Gauss?

Or-or Charles Babbage?

Lewis Carroll? Lou, maybe?

This is Harbor Neuroscience Academy.

Yeah, I'm-I'm aware of that. Uh...

do you have any employees,
maybe female, British accent?

What's this in reference to?

About a former student
whose father was in the military?

The student records are sealed.

Uh, I'm the after-hours receptionist.

You should
probably call back tomorrow

when there's someone here
who can answer that for you.

I need to talk
to the handler of The Accountant.

I know she's listening,

- and I know he listens to her.
- Excuse me?

My name is Marybeth Medina.

I'm staring at a pile of homicide photos,

maps of Central America,

Mexico, pizza receipts, and...

I'm pretty sure I'm staring
at a photo of her boss.

I need his help.

Hanging up now.

W-Wait.

Ray King has been murdered.

Okay, let's see.

Ten, eight. Give you seven.

Ten, eight and seven? A pound?

- Yeah, a pound.
- It's sushi-grade tuna.

Oh, come on. It's not sushi-grade.

Burke, it's sushi-grade.

It's bruised. There's no fat on it.

It's not sushi-grade at all. Come on.

Take it or leave it.

- Dickie inside?
- Dickie's inside.

He'll give you your money like last week
and the week before, you fucker.

- Yeah, yeah.
- Tony, come on!

Sit down.

Okay, okay.

Four pro hitters couldn't
take out one woman.

How is that possible?

Technically, two hitters.

Two went after King. Two took her.

Three.

Counting you.

I didn't have a clean shot.

Oh.

You think she knows
we were after her instead of King?

- No chance.
- How you figure?

We're aboveground.

Problem solved.

By your own logic,
if she wanted to kill you,

she would have.

Relax, boss.

She don't remember you.

Yet.

The fuck does that mean?

She showed up
a couple of years ago.

The three men I was negotiating with
had pissed off the wrong people.

So, let's talk about our success.

Your ships, my boats.

20 miles out to sea, hmm?

No Los Angeles port.

Just...

And she didn't recognize you?

No.

But one day she'll remember
who I am and what I did,

and my whole world turns to shit.

You fly to Fort Worth tonight.

- No more Ray Kings.
- Okay.

No more private investigators.

I don't want to get out
of the shower one day

and find a human chain saw waiting for me.

Okay.

I coughed loudly twice.

No, please don't do that.

You're Christian Wolff.

You're Marybeth Medina.

Do I make you nervous?

You're an escaped convict,
trained by a mob accountant.

Your clients are drug cartels,

money launderers, third-world warlords.

Is that a yes?

I saw a video of you
killing men in Brooklyn.

I was in Chicago eight years ago.

With Ray.

Living Robotics.
I saw all the dead bodies,

heard the chanting.

"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday."

What can I do for you, Ms. Medina?

Do you like puzzles, Mr. Wolff?

I don't know if this is one case or ten.

I do know Ray was nearly broke.

I found that photo
in between the seat cushions

at the tavern Ray was at
the night he was killed.

Three men were also shot
to death inside the tavern,

one struck by a car outside.

All ex-Chilean special forces,
Lautaro Brigade.

Was Ray capable of that?

No, he was not.

Dmitry Yoshenko.

Throat slit in a Moscow hotel.

Moshe Yeutz, car bomb, Jerusalem.

We haven't I.D.'d the rest.

Armando Reyes, Mexico City.

Ozan Unal, Istanbul.

Santino Sanvieri, Naples.

Must have been quite the fall.

The fall didn't kill him.

It was the abrupt stop.

It's a joke.

Why are you helping me?

Because you asked me.

Amen, amen, amen, amen.

Okay, so we've got

four dead mercs in the morgue,

homicides, tax returns,

map to Mexico, train schedule,

pizza, fish,

family photo

and a trashed Toyota.

So, how does this all connect?

What are you doing?

Waiting.

- For?
- Well, for you to finish.

Finish what?

I don't know.

Um, whatever it is that, um...

that you're in the process of doing.

So you can...?

Do what I need to do.

You might seek medical attention
for the snoring problem.

Coffee?

Oh.

I don't snore, so...

Mm...

Nothing's where it was.

Well, your brain... most brains...

when confronted
with ambiguous visual data,

seek subconsciously to arrange it
in a pattern that's familiar,

but that's not the pattern
we're looking for here.

Right.

Okay. Um...

What-what pattern are we looking for?

Survival probability.

They started...

...here, Central America.

Okay.

How do we know that?

His tattoo.

Barrio 18, Izalco Prison, El Salvador.

They're at war with MS-13.

When they reached the border of Mexico,
they boarded this train.

Well, uh, no,
that's a freight train,

- not a passenger train.
- It's the Death Train.

Families ride on the roof,
not in the cars.

It's the surest way to avoid
immigration checkpoints.

When they arrived at Mexico City,

they would've typically headed
to one of three areas

to cross into Texas and the United States:

El Paso, Del Rio, McAllen.

In this case, they crossed
the Rio Grande into McAllen.

Why McAllen?

A gallon of water weighs eight pounds.

A human being requires
between one and a half

and two gallons of water a day
to survive in the desert.

So that's 36 to 48 pounds

a person not carrying
a five-year-old has to carry.

Here's her son at five.

In this photograph,
he looks to be about 13.

Edith arrived in Los Angeles
and claimed work at Sudio's Pizza.

Uh, h-hold on. Um, Edith?

Edith Sanchez.

No, you can't possibly know
that this woman in the photo

is the same Edith Sanchez on these 1040s.

Yes, it's a certainty.

She claimed one dependent, a child.

Of the three 1040s she filed,
two had incomes

of roughly $15,000.

The third was $60,250.

That's twice as much in one year
than the previous two combined.

Yes. That's not the strangest part.

She checked "married"
but filed separately.

Had she filed jointly,
she could've taken advantage

of the child and dependent care exemption.

Four times as much money
in the third year,

checks "married," files separately,
has a child and no child care.

A list of Ray's clients
over the last 18 months

shows six names,
only one with a Latino surname:

Emiliano "Emi" Gonzalez,
Fort Worth, Texas.

So, if Emi was Edith's father,

why didn't she call him for help?

I have no way of knowing that.

Do you have any influence at the IRS?

Keep an eye on the loading dock.

What's with the muscle?

You don't spend much time
in Los Angeles, do you?

I'm not a fan of getting
pistol-whipped and robbed.

No, I don't remember any Edith.

Sorry. Can't help you.

Jeanette, what do you got?

- Looks great.
- Mm-hmm.

Why would an employee not take
all the exemptions she's eligible for?

'Cause she's dumb?

'Cause she doesn't look like you?

Neither one.

Well, I don't see people
as legal or illegal.

I see 'em as human beings,
and I give 'em a chance.

Anything else?

No, sir. Thanks for your time.

You're welcome.

Two thirds of your business
is takeout, correct?

Got my tax reports, huh?

You people.

That's right... two thirds.

Ask me anything.

Unit costs, payroll, promotions.

You name it, I know where every dime goes.

Last year's earnings before interest,

taxes, depreciation and amortization.

42.9 mil.

You claimed 41.9 million.

Keep reading, EF Hutton.

A million in charitable contributions
to homeless shelters.

Let's go.

Setting aside the amateur nature
of this preparation,

considering you could've deducted

considerably more
from your taxable income,

what is the most frequently
ordered size of pizza?

Large, 90%.

Large pizza is $17.35,
which accounts for 1,484,315 large pizzas.

What's your point?

Your paper costs are $360,000,

which only accounts
for 900,000 large pizza boxes.

You are making my head hurt.

It's considerably less
than the aforementioned

1,484,315 large pizzas.

Right, that's because, uh,
we do it by the slice.

- By the slice? No.
- Yeah.

Impossible. You're fraudulently claiming
more income than you're receiving

in order to conceal income
from another source.

What is it?

You fucking rodent.

Now, wait just a second.

I take time out of my busy day
to answer your silly-ass questions,

and you got the balls
to accuse me of money laundering?

Chris!

You're laundering money.

- Where is it coming from?
- Let go of my arm!

Federal agent! Stay back.
Everything's fine.

You're washing money.

Tell me where it's coming from, or I will

- dislocate your shoulder.
- Fuck off, you motherfucker.

- It's quite painful.
- Chris, that's enough!

I told you.

I don't traffic those girls!

No, I-I swear to God, I get a call.

I get a call, the cash comes in.

- I know where they...
- From who?

- Who is "them"?
- ...they use a motel or two.

- A suite.
- Who is "them"?

I-I don't know. Ask one of the girls.

What motel?

- What motel?
- City Center, Downtown.

- Who's your contact?
- Oh, fuck.

- Please, no.
- Who's your contact?

Please.

- Who's your contact?
- Tomas!

We should go.

Were you dropped
on your head as a child?

I feel that's not really your question.

You know, I work for a government agency.

- I don't torture people.
- You didn't.

I'm the deputy director
of FinCEN,

- so I can't...
- I know. I put you there.

You and Ray King.

You know, a British woman calls
and gives me tips.

So criminals... which is what you are...

give law enforcement...
that's me... tips every day.

If by "tips" you mean names, dates, acts,
account numbers, routing numbers,

yes, I give you tips.

You know, I'm not like you.

I can't just break the law
when it suits me.

No more violence.

We need to take what he gave us
and work our way up the chain.

That's how this is done.

Maybe the Bureau has an agent
in this office they can spare.

I may know someone.

Danke schoen.

♪ far down in my chest...

Hello.

Hi. Hi.

Hi.

Hello.

Hi. Hey, Margaret, it's...

Margaret...

Hey.

Fucking come on.

Hi, Margaret. It's Braxton.

Hello. Hi.

Hello, Margaret.

Fucking... fucking stop.

Okay. Hello.

Hello. Hello.

Margaret, it's Braxton. I was just...

God! Motherfucker.

Motherfucker!

Just fucking do it.

Fucking do it.

You fucking do it.

You fucking pussy!

Hi. Hi. Hi, Margaret.

Hey, Margaret, it's-it's-it's...

Fuck, man, what are you
so fucking scared of, man?

What are we even talking about here?

We're talking about two weeks.

That's 14...

14 days, Margaret, in the life...

in a... in a... in a... in a...

in his... in his life.

Do you know what his name is?

It's Greg.

It's... it...

It's my Greg.

He is mine.

♪ Yeah...

Of course he's gonna sleep
with me. Of course.

You want a bottle? I'll get a...

I'll give him a bottle. I'll...
I'll give him a bottle.

A bottle. I-I can... I can...
I can... I can con...

I can connect with-with...

♪ 'fore I do something wrong...

Come on.

Margaret, it's Braxton.

Yeah. Me again. You, uh...

You got me there, Margaret.
Listen, I, uh...

You know, I was thinking
about our last conversation,

and I have gone ahead and, uh, decided

that I'm going to swing on through
and pick up the pup on Thursday.

Yeah, no, weaned at eight weeks.

No, you made that...

You made that abundantly clear, Margaret.

No, and I-I'm fully aware
it's only been six,

but, you know, a corgi is

an enormously smart dog, Margaret, and...

Fair enough. I just...

Not sure that I'm able to wrap
my head around the logic

of building a bond between
a puppy and its mother

when it's literally never gonna
see the mother again. Right?

I mean, why not take
that precious two weeks

and build a bond between
the owner and its pup

when they're gonna spend
the rest of their lives together?

Well, no, but that's-that's-that's...

that's where the-the
bottle-feeding component

comes in.

Jesus.

All right. Yeah, you really...

You're yelling at me, Margaret. Yeah.

Okay.

Yeah, see... see you in two weeks.

Yep. Perfect.

Bye-bye.

Fuck you!

Fuck you, Margaret, you fucking bitch!

♪ Ooh-ooh-ooh...

So tell me about you.

What do you... what do you do

when you're not doing
whatever it is you do?

You got any hobbies?

Like, um, I don't know, you bake or-or...

you fish?

No? You don't fish?

No? You like to read? Maybe...

You garden?

Film.

Movies.

Uh, you got a favorite?

Uh...

Zauberer von Oz.

Um...

Wizard of Oz.

Oz?

Want to hear a little Oz fun fact?

The little dog, Toto,
its real name was Terry.

Terry the dog.

Terry the dog made 125 bucks a week on Oz.

You know what the little people made
who played the Munchkins?

50 bucks.

I mean, is that a travesty of justice
or what?

Sometimes I like to think about
those little people, you know.

Put yourself in their shoes.

Bet they sat around
with their little people friends,

looking at Terry.

"Hey, this motherfucker, you know,

this guy's making twice as much as we are.

I don't remember Terry doing
any song-and-dance numbers.

Do you?"

- What do you want?
- Braxton, hi. Hello.

It's me, Chris, your brother.

I know it's you. You can't tell

from the tone of my voice
that I know it's you?

Oh, well, you sound hostile.

What do you want?

- I need your help.
- Ah. Goodbye.

B-Braxton?

Fuck. Unbelievable.

Unbelievable. You just...

Motherf...

Jesus Christ.

The fuck... All right.

Well, the last time that I did help you,

it nearly cost me my career.

Are you aware of that?

You sound angry at me. Why?

Yes, you're goddamn right I'm angry.

I'm angry because,
year after year, I call.

It's always me reaching out,
and it's never you,

and now, just out of the blue, you call.

And why? Because what, you...
you need my help?

How about... how about just calling?

How about just calling to shoot the shit?

"Hey, man, how you doing?
How have you been?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Happy birthday, B." What about that one?

But it's not your birthday.
Your birthday's November 11th.

Ah, you dum-dum,
I know it's not my fucking birthday.

That's not the fucking point
of what I'm...

What do you want?

Can you be in Los Angeles, California,
in 24 hours?

Braxton? Hello?

Braxton?

Please don't hurt me.

I'm sorry. What?

Don't hurt me.

Why would you say that to me?

What have I done to you? What...

Have I done anything at all
that would give you the idea

that I would do something to hurt you?

Why would you say that to me?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Yeah.

That makes two of us.

Trying to have a conversation.

You kind of suck as a conversationalist.

I mean, I know there's a language barrier,
but holy shit,

it's not like it's so fucking confusing
what I'm saying to you.

Can't seem to find an office chair I like.

They're all so uncomfortable, you know?

You know, actually, it's not the chair.

I think maybe it's what you
said about putting me there.

I don't feel like I've earned the job.

Maybe you need more lumbar support.

Costco has an excellent line of chairs
that support the lower back.

Uh, never mind.

So, is your brother
up to speed on the case?

Yes.

When was the last time you saw him?

Eight years ago, in Chicago.

Younger brother or older?

I'm two years older than Braxton.

He doesn't...

Is there something wrong?

He's just often very angry at me
for no reason.

It's fine.

Well, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you.

Mm. Uh...

I-I get it. I have a sibling, too.

Maybe thank him for coming to help.

You know, tell him how glad
you are to see him.

It's just been my experience
that people want to be

appreciated, you know?

Oh. That's him.

Hello, Braxton.

This is pretty.

Who are you?

I am Marybeth Medina,

deputy director
of Financial Crimes Enforcement.

A Fed?

You suffer a stroke?

You're upset.

We're working together, so whatever...

profession you're in,
I currently have zero interest.

Currently, huh?

Hey, gosh, that's great to hear.

Talk to you for a second?

So it's been a minute, yeah?

Eight years, uh, two months.

That's right.

You look good, Chris.

I think so, too.

I...

Braxton, thank you for coming.

I'm really glad you're here.

She tell you to say that?

Yeah.

Got to squirt.

Uh, just... Braxton, should we
go over the plan again?

What are you doing?

Let me just take a piss, yeah?

Okay, and then
we'll talk about the plan.

Care what they look like?

Nah.

How many?

I'll send 'em up.

Appreciate it.

All righty.

My time's money, right?

Yes, I've heard that.

I'll send you an invoice.

Okay. Fair.

See how fair you think it is
when you get the bill there, hotshot.

Oh, it's okay. I'm sure I can afford it.

"I'm sure I can afford it."

Braxton.

- "Braxton."
- Braxton, don't repeat me.

"Braxton, don't repeat me."

- Braxton.
- "Braxton."

You know I don't like...

Braxton, I'm asking you nicely.

"Braxton, I really..."

Braxton.

All right, go...

just go stand over there, all right?

Don't be scary.

Let me do the talking.

Ladies.

- Hola, papi.
- Hola.

Make yourself at home.

Hola, hola.

- Hola.
- Hello.

You must be the wild one, huh?

Oh.

Long as you don't rearrange
the furniture, he's A-OK.

Let's just, uh... Okay.

Let's just get this over with now, yeah?

Gracias.

Here you go.

De nada, de nada.

- Gracias.
- Thank you, ladies.

You know, me and my friend
here, we were, uh...

we were just talking.

Just, maybe you could
settle something for us.

Now, what happens,
you walk into a room like this,

two guys sitting here,
all right, waiting for you...

what happens if things turn bad?

Now, look, it's... it's not us.

We're as tame as a tulip, okay?

I'm just wondering what happens
if somebody puts their hands on you

a way you don't like, if...
maybe we don't let you leave.

I imagine there's somebody you call
in a situation like that, right?

Somebody whose job it is to show up here,

make sure you guys are okay.

Now, I want to be completely clear.

I'm not interested in names here.

I could care less what his name is.

Just... what would it take
for me to get that certain somebody

to show up here?

¿Está loco este gringo?

Se llama Tomas.

His name is Tomas.

Braxton, remember? Tomas.

What?

- What?
- No, no, no, no, no.

Shh, shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay.

Piensa en Juárez.

¿Qué pasa en Juárez?

Juárez is none of your business.

Vámonos.

Eres una estúpida.

That's your money. You take it.

Vámonos.

Thank you, ladies.

It'll take a lot more than this
to get away from those people.

Okay. Okay.

Come on, Mr. "I Can Afford It."
Pay the lady.

I'm risking my life.

- Really?
- Oh.

There we go.

Tomas is real mean.

Understood.

And you're gonna hurt him?

Would you...

Would you like us to?

Please.

Okay.

Tomas.

They won't let us leave.

Okay. Gracias.

I am in room 235.

Okay.

Uh, look like?

Accountants.

Uh...

Okay, boss. Bye.

Thank you.

I don't have kids.

- Sorkis.
- Hey, it's Marybeth.

What do you got for me?

Traffic cam footage.

Sharing my screens with you now.

Only two camera angles in that area.

King enters...

He's inside 45 minutes.

Figure gunshots here.

Place stampedes.

Nothing.

Shooter could be anybody.

King exits 90 seconds later.

Um, any luck calling Emiliano Gonzalez,
guy on Ray's client list?

Edith's father. Yes and no.

Gonzalez residence.

Is Emiliano Gonzalez there?

Yes and no.

Mr. Gonzalez had reported
his daughter and young family missing

seven years ago.

Well, what happened to 'em?

Cartels kidnap migrants for ransom
or for sale to traffickers.

And if they can't
ransom or sell?

You get this.

Gino Sanchez.

I got to call you back.

You got my fucking bitches, asshole.

Assholes.

Mariella!

She's just in the back
getting freshened up.

- Mariella!
- Hey, come on, man.

We got Wi-Fi and everything.
Come on in, no?

Mariella!

Guess I hit him harder than I thought.

- He's alive.
- Yeah. Get my shit.

Have you lost your fucking mind?

- What, are we kidnappers now?
- Ah, kidnapping.

That's pretty harsh, isn't it?
We merely, uh...

- We detained him.
- For questioning.

Uh, no, we have no right to detain anyone.

This man may know who killed Ray King.

Do you want to know what he knows or not?

I-If the cops stop me,

if-if they search the trunk,
what then, genius?

Hello, dreamboat.

- Do you have my location?
- Yes.

I need green lights from here
to Victory Boulevard.

And please call in a fake robbery

ten blocks south of here
to distract the police

until Marybeth gets safely home
to the Airbnb.

- Damn.
- Anything else?

I need to know who Ray King
was meeting with.

Okay?

Pretty good, no?

Okay.

Go eat something or...

- Taco Bell.
- There we go.

Good morning, boys and girls.

Who wants to brute-force
the city of Los Angeles?

We have Chris and his friend
joining us remotely this morning.

They would like us to find and identify
a person of interest.

Let's prepare to examine
all traffic and security cameras.

Okay, so I've been looking

at the footage Homeland sent.

Ray goes in, comes out 45 minutes later.

We don't even know for sure
if he was there to meet anyone at all.

Why don't we just, uh, get that Tomas guy
to tell us where Cobb's at?

And how are we gonna do that exactly?

If you just take out his eye, right,
you show it to him?

And then you just say
you're gonna take the other one out

unless he starts talking.

It works every time.
It's, like, a ten out of ten.

Nobody wants to be blind, right?

You show 'em the one eye,
they know you're serious.

Secure link is active.

Good morning.

I've warmed up the orchestra.

We are looking for your person now.

Finding footage
from the day of the incident.

Isolating street cameras.

Look, my guy at Homeland,

he has a doctorate
in computer science from Caltech.

- Wow.
- He can access

every database you can name
and some you can't.

There were only two cameras
recording that night.

I'm sure the kids at Harbor are bright,
but we are wasting time.

Oh, look.

Here are the other cameras

you were looking for,
Deputy Director Medina.

You can unmute your mic now.

Everyone take a feed
and look for anything suspicious

between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.

Lane, let's see the front entrance,
post-gunfire.

Aidan, what's happening in the back?

Look for any behavior
that doesn't match the situation.

Go back.

Zoom in on the front door.

Reverse.

That is our person of interest.

She's not hurrying.

She's not afraid.

Let's find her before
she arrived.

Check every alley and street.

Cover four square blocks
around Vermont and 19th.

She's hiding her face.

She knows where the cameras are.

Miles, reverse.

Pink Jacket is taking a selfie.

Let's get that photo.

There's no way they can zoom in
on her phone screen from that angle.

They don't have to.

They'll identify the woman
and find likely passwords,

hack into the phone and email the selfie.

- Yeah, okay. Sure.
- Heavy sigh.

Would you like to bring
the normie up to speed, Chris?

That's what I would do.

Run facial scan
for I.D., please.

- I got it.
- I got it.

Chris, Lane and Charles

are going head-to-head for this one.

Hello, Pam.

Let's get to know each other.

Iowa.

Birthplace of the world's first computer.

Let's pay Pam's a visit.

Aidan, that zip code is serviced
by Midwest Power and Energy.

They're entering
from the utility company.

They'll jump to an unsecured printer
on the network

or a smart thermostat.

Who are these kids?

My people.

There are more of us
than you think,

Deputy Director Medina.

Skye, we need the password
to the smart home network.

Good morning, Iowa.

Good morning, Pam.

Let's not let Pam get comfortable.

This isn't right.

Lane, get her out of that chair

and let's go find that photo.

Miles, have that page ready
when she comes back.

Charles, get into her photo library.

We-we can't do this.

Tell her to stop.

Chris,
please explain to the normie

we need to finish what we've started.

Red light.

Aidan, your turn.

Green light.

Tell her to stop.

Here she comes. Red light.

Lane, let the neighbors hear that TV.

All in... all in the butter.

Yeah, yeah. All that butter.

All right, all that butter, and then...

- Uh-huh. A little bit of salt.
- Mm-hmm.

Tell her to stop now.

Chris, enough.

Stop.

Tell her to stop.

Stop this now.

Ah-ah-ah.

Here's her selfie.

Aidan, email photo.

You can actually
taste the sweetness.

- Oh, I love that.
- Yeah.

That, my friend, is an Iowan response.

Skye, get us out.

He says he does it
every morning.

- It's so good.
- You like the raw better?

- I like the raw better.
- Proud of you.

You are now a true Iowan.

Miles, enhance, please.

Running Interpol facial recognition.

It looks like she was
the last person to speak to Ray,

but she doesn't want to be found.

Goodbye, dreamboat.

Why would Ray meet with someone
who killed all these people

to find a mother and child?

She didn't kill all those people.

Just...

I'm just saying,
she definitely didn't kill that one or...

that one right there, so...

How do you know that?

Eh... just kind of

throwing it out there,
that's all, you know.

Just a hunch.

Educated guess.

That's all it is, really.

He has no way of knowing.

Yeah, I'm just...

It's hypothetical.

- True.
- Stop talking.

Okay.

- Regardless...
- Oh, fuck no.

Ah...

I... Do you... do you often
confess to capital murder?

I actually didn't say anything,
if you think about it.

I literally made a gesture.
I guess that bothered her.

Goodbye. That's it.

- I'm out.
- Okay.

One moment, Marybeth,
please, for your time.

One thing that you may want to consider

is some of those men
whose pictures were on the wall

may have... may not have been killed,

were likely very unsavory characters...

It doesn't fucking matter
if they're unsavory!

We don't get to decide
who lives and who dies.

- Apparently, I do.
- Braxton.

The law is what separates us
from people like him.

Been a pleasure and an honor.

Uh, hope we get to work
with each other again.

Uh, you take care and stay safe.

Fuck.

- We have a problem.
- Is it the man in the trunk?

- It is.
- Sounds like you got a problem.

- Remove him, please.
- And-and do what with him?

I'm going to the state's attorney general.

Sure am glad it's not my car.

You know what,
I made a mistake calling you.

Okay? I'm gonna do this myself,

by the book, no more lying,
no more breaking the law.

Tell the Brit no more tips.

And don't be here when I get back.

If I see either of you again,
I'll have you arrested.

Ms. Gutierrez, I'm confused.

The only thing that my client is guilty of

is coming to the aid
of a young lady in distress,

after which he was attacked,
beaten and kidnapped.

But instead of pursuing these men,

you hold this Cobb individual
over my client's head,

threatened him with prison time
amidst accusations of human trafficking?

In what bizarro legal world

do you imagine getting
a grand jury indictment?

Funny.

Exactly what Ike Sudio's lawyer said

when I offered the same
plea deal to his client.

I do not know Mr. Sudio.

Looks like your client does.

Now, what you don't see are

the bite marks
on Sudio's tongue and the rat.

It went into his mouth
when both were still alive.

Now...
and this is just a hunch...

I'm guessing Ike was
more important than a pimp.

What do you think they'll do to you?

Okay, we're done here.

I should note Mr. Sudio's attorney
is missing.

In or out?

Ike washed the fucking money, man.

Money made
from human trafficking?

Most are
from Central America, Mexico.

Like drugs, only better.

A good earner lasts five, six years.

Mostly women...

on their backs, in the fields,
scrubbing toilets.

Some men... picking melons,
slaughterhouse kill floors.

Any job an American won't fucking do
and a machine can't.

Recognize him?

No.

This was taken eight years ago.

Oh, yeah.

Bitch would work a good man to death.

She threw down a few times,

but she was too quiet, so...
did maid work mainly.

Her name is Edith. Where is she?

She T-boned a car outside
a parking garage on Alvarado

four, five years ago.

- So she's dead?
- No.

Heard she went through
the windshield, though.

Too secondhand for us.

What hospital?

- Fuck would I know?
- She had a father in Texas.

Why wouldn't she go to him for help?

Ask him.

We're asking you.

You put everything on the record,

you get immunity
in exchange for your testimony.

Last chance.

Give me the fucking pen.

Fuck!

Get down!

18 reported accidents
within the garage in the last five years.

None serious, none on that level.

What street did the garage exit out to?

Alvarado.

32 accidents within a mile radius,

three with serious bodily injuries.

Did any of those involve
a vehicle exiting a garage?

- One.
- Injuries?

One, critical.

An unidentified woman, sole occupant.

Hospital?

University Medical Center.

Vehicle?

- Ugh.
- Toyota Camry.

Color?

Blue.

Explore the medical center's
patient files.

Thank you.

"I don't have kids."

Thank God for that.

- What?
- What?

The woman at the hotel,
she said, "I don't have kids."

Yeah, I remember, man.

You got to let it go already.

Well, I'm saying, why is that significant?

Why is being a mother important?

You know, man, I don't think
you and I are really authorities

on the importance of motherly love,
I hate to tell you.

This is it, huh?

Live in a lunch box.

It's quite comfortable.

Well, so is the Four Seasons.

Or a house.

Cheap like Pop.

Tighter than bark on a tree, aren't you?

No, he wasn't cheap. He was frugal.

- He was frugal?
- Yes.

Bullshit.

"Seven T-shirts,
seven pairs of underwear and socks

is all I need."

Fucking grown man wearing a Timex, dude.

He was fucking pathetic. Look at that.

- See that?
- Yes.

It's worth more than he made in a year.

What do you think he'd say about this?

He would say
it's the same time on his watch.

He probably would, wouldn't he?

Are you happy, Braxton?

Am I happy?

Yes.

Yeah. Yeah, man, of course I'm happy.

Why wouldn't I be happy?

You're a transient.
You have no significant other.

You're completely alone, no friends or...

nothing, you have no...

We talking about me
or we talking about you?

You ever thought about
why I'm alone, Chris?

'Cause you're abrasive or selfish or...

well, you swear too often.

Dude, I'm alone because I...
I want to be alone.

I choose to be alone.

I don't have anybody that
I got to answer to, you know,

check in with.

I-I travel the world.

I stay at five-star hotels.

I do what I want when I want it.

Have gun, will travel, motherfucker.

I mean, yeah. Shit yeah, I'm happy.

I'm fucking happy. Bet your ass I'm happy.

I'd like to have someone to check in on.

- Yeah?
- Yes.

Well, get a dog.

- Do you have a dog?
- I'm getting a dog.

Look at this.

Yeah.

That's Greg.

Unconvincing.

What do you mean "unconvincing"?

That's Greg. I'm getting this dog.

Well, you like the idea of a dog.

Anybody who has a dog likes
the idea of getting a dog.

It's why they got the dog
in the first place.

- Do you have a permanent residence?
- No.

Anyone to care for your dog
during long absences?

- I do not.
- Do you keep a regular schedule

- in terms of eating, sleeping?
- No, I don't.

You're a cat person.

There's nothing wrong with that.

Well, you know something, if I had a cat,
at least the cat would miss me.

Doubtful.

Possible.

Nah.

Chris, is it because of you
or because of me?

What?

That you, like...

- What?
- You...

- I don't understand.
- You don't...

You just, like, don't, like...

like, miss me.

Like, is that 'cause of you or me?

I spent years looking for you.

I was just trying to track you down,
but you don't look for me at all.

And then I finally find you,

and I... you know, I was there,
I saved your life.

And you said that you would
come and find me. You said...

you would come and find me soon,

and then you just
disappeared again, I guess.

You had my phone number.

I guess what I'm asking you,
man, is, like...

Do you not miss me
because of me, or is it...

...is it 'cause of your, like...

- My what?
- Your...

You know, your... your condition.

I'm just me.

What are you doing?

I am applying sunscreen
to my lower extremities.

This is 100 SPF.

I had more than four sunburns
in my childhood,

so we're more than twice as likely
to develop melanoma as adults.

- I take precautions.
- Can I get a little bit?

- Yeah, sure.
- Can I get some? Thanks, man.

You know I don't like that.

That's not funny, Braxton. I like thing...

Oh, it's so funny.

I want to sock your mouth sometimes.

It's so funny.

You know what I think?

I think we got to go get drunk.

Come on, man.

Let's go get drunk.

Okay.

♪ I don't think old Hank
done it this way...

I don't know if it's, uh,

exactly what I had in mind, you know?

I mean, it's... it's L.A.

To me, that means nightclubs,

valets, velvet ropes,
douchebags everywhere.

Not really a honky-tonk
type town, you know?

I don't know,
I just never took you for, like,

a country-western kind of guy,
but it's cool.

I mean, I guess you pretend
to be an ordinary accountant,

you can, uh, pretend to be
a cowboy tonight, right?

- Huh?
- No. Yes. Okay.

What do you mean "no, yes, okay"?

Are we having a conversation here, Chris?

By the way, as far as
the whole cowboy thing,

I think the Forrest Gump shoes,
they're a bit of a misfire,

- but...
- Well...

"Well" what?

- What?
- Um...

- Hey, now.
- Hello.

Band's looking for requests.

Is there a song you like, handsome?

Ah.

I guess I'm good with, like, Alan Jackson,
something like that.

Tell 'em that'll, uh...
that'll do me just fine, sweetheart.

Okay, slow down, Night Moves.

I was, uh, asking him.

I'm Angie.

Hello, Angie. My name is Chris.

What's your favorite tune, Chris?

My favorite song
is "Appalachian Spring" by Copland.

Second favorite.

Uh... in this context, yes.

Um...

Metallica, "Enter Sandman."

I don't think that's in their wheelhouse.

Ah, yeah.

Maybe you should ask someone more familiar
with the band's capabilities.

Okay.

- No.
- I...

- No.
- What?

What are you do... You were right there.

Why'd you... why'd you go down like that?

- What was I supposed to say?
- You were going up.

- It was working.
- I...

What were you supposed to say?
Just say, "You pick," you know?

But she asked me
what my favorite song was.

- Dude, she wasn't asking you...
- That's why I answered.

- Yes, she did. She asked me.
- Because she liked you.

She lit... I-I'm just
as shocked as you are,

but she liked you.
That's why she came here.

I don't know, it was like a mating call.

- My brain...
- I mean, how do you not see...

It doesn't... My brain doesn't
work that way, Braxton.

Look, dude, I... Hey, hey, hey, hey.

It was good.

You hear me? It was good.

But, I mean, it seemed like
you were seeing it,

- and she was seeing it.
- Yes.

It was just... you made her smile.

I mean, I don't know what
the-the first thing you said,

but the Metallica thing,
that... it was funny.

You know, it could've been
perceived as, I-I don't know,

like, cute or something like that,
but it definitely made her smile.

I think maybe you don't
give yourself enough credit.

You're just, like, sort of...

What are you gonna do, man?

You... going to piss? Where are you going?

♪ Everybody knew that he made moonshine...

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

♪ he never come back
from Copperhead Road...

You got it. Ready?

There you go. Hey.

Get the fuck out of...

- Hey!
- ♪ that rumblin' sound...

Hey, hey!

♪ down Copperhead Road...

Let's go!

Kick!

Hey, you see that? That's my brother.

That's my big brother up there.

Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

Sorry, I didn't mean to...

- Thank you.
- So he dances.

Well...

Well, I'll be dipped in dog shit.

- Oh, hello.
- That was some dancing.

Light on your feet, big man.

Thank you. Yes.

I'm a beginner. It's my first time, so...

- It wasn't a compliment, hoss.
- Jerry.

- Don't start.
- Mm.

Hey.

- Hey.
- Eyes forward, son.

Whoa. Well, that's not kind.

Hey, I don't think you heard me.

Look at me when
I'm fucking talking to you.

Hey.

Hey, come on.

- You're in cowboy country.
- Oh, I see.

We don't mess
with another man's girl down here.

You're from Glendale, Gerald,
and I'm not your girl.

It's okay. My brother wasn't having
a good time tonight, but now he will.

Okay, hit me, Jerry.

Well, your brother
can get it, too.

Oh, good.

Your face is like an anus.

Swing at me, Jerry! Oh, no.

Khaki Pants here wants to scrap.

- Jerry.
- Oh, goodness gracious.

- Fucking hit him.
- Hey.

- Show him what you got, Jerry.
- Here, hold this.

- Get him, Jerry.
- Knuckle up, motherfucker.

- I'm prepared.
- Guys, stop.

- Knuckle up, motherfucker.
- Hey. Stop.

Jerry.

- Oh, come on now.
- Go, Jerry!

Goddamn!

Is there anything in this world
better than punching

a motherfucker in the face
who's got it coming? Huh?

- Well...
- Huh? What?

- No.
- Yes.

Shut the front door.

- You! Hey!
- Yes. Ha!

- Hey!
- I'm very smooth.

You!

You, look at you!

I'm sorry, it was, uh, Miss...

Deputy Director Medina.

Yeah, well, patient files past
and present require a subpoena.

- I'm quite sure you know that, Miss Medina.
- Yes, I do.

A woman and her child disappeared
eight years ago.

Now they're either dead
or living a nightmare.

Look, could you just do this
for me, please?

I really need your help,
and I just... I...

Yeah, and I need a court order to do so.

Now, I'm sorry.

Hey.

Harbor Neuroscience.

The Harbor Neuroscience?

Treasury and Harbor
have partnered to support

health care professionals
who work with individuals

possessing unique abilities.

Define "support."

Here we go.

Jane Doe 636.

Five years ago.

Skull fracture, jaw, ribs,
left arm broken.

And extensive facial injuries
as a result of an auto accident.

Delirious, in and out of consciousness
when she arrived.

Said something about being
attacked by somebody.

Prior to reconstructive surgery,

she was exposed
to neuro-rehabilitation strategies

I designed to treat individuals
with extensive brain trauma.

How extensive?

A nearly total loss of memory.

I played top boards in college.

If Jane ever played,
she didn't remember how.

That's three days later?

Acquired savant syndrome.

So rare some neurologists doubt it exists.

But you don't?

Victims of blunt force trauma

can, on extremely rare occasions,

exhibit extraordinary outcomes.

A woman who's never played piano
fractures her skull in a fall,

masters Rachmaninoff in a day.

A baseball fan takes
a 90-mile-per-hour foul ball

to the head and wakes to discover

he can learn a foreign language
in an afternoon.

How is that possible?

Their brains, for lack of a better word,

are rewired, unlocking hidden abilities,

abilities that, at least theoretically,
we all possess.

And Jane's talent was chess?

No.

Not exactly.

The brain injury Jane suffered
lit up her frontal and parietal cortex.

Checkmate.

Those areas responsible
for pattern recognition, problem solving,

critical thinking.

The same areas of the brain
chess masters rely on.

Caveat is their abilities
start and stop with chess.

In Jane Doe, they didn't.

Acquired savant syndrome

would explain the exponential acceleration
of her ability

to decode and assimilate information,

the hand-eye coordination,

but what it doesn't explain

is why her memory was all but erased.

Or the personality change.

My theory?

The trauma that rewired her brain

also unplugged
any unnecessary neural networks.

Unnecessary for...?

Survival.

The brain's frontal lobes are also where
our fight-or-flight decisions are made.

I think the appeal of chess
wasn't strategy...

...but combat.

I don't know what Jane's life
was like prior to the accident,

but whoever she was
when they brought her in...

...wasn't the same person who left.

Over the following months, she became

increasingly isolated.

Aggressive.

Until one night, she beat
a security guard unconscious,

took his gun...

...and disappeared.

Y-You said her memory
was all but erased.

D-Did she retain any memory
of her life before the accident?

Family, kids, anything?

Yeah, I asked her that
exact question multiple times.

Only once did she come up with something.

Let's go back over family.

Um, any memory of children

or a husband?

"Pop! Goes the Weasel"?

So, should we order in some dinner?

Discuss the grant? Next steps?

Uh, the applications
are in my car.

I'll be right back.

You're asking me
to divulge the identity of a woman

who may or may not be under my employment.

I know she works for us, Batu.

And, uh, you know this how?

Half those jobs I turned down...

I just... I just want to talk to her.
That's all.

Talk to her? Why?

Eh. It's-it's a family thing.

Don't tell me.

The one man I'd terminate for free
minus one very inconvenient fact.

I know. He's my brother.

No.

He might kill all my killers.

I'm going to bed.

Braxton, tell me
that engine of destruction

isn't with you now.

No, sir, he is not.

Because the last time
you had a family thing,

it nearly ruined me.

Makes two of us.

Since you're in Los Angeles...

- Yeah?
- We have a new client

whose in-house hitter
isn't getting the job done.

Sending a photo now.

Instructions to follow

only if we engage.

I will let you know soon
if I need your services.

"Piensa en Juárez."

Juárez. Why Juárez?

"I don't have kids."

"I don't have kids."

"I don't have..."

Why didn't Edith Sanchez call her father?

Negative consequence.

Is her father a danger?

A school.

It's not a school, is it?

It's a...

It's a prison.

Why?

Because of you.

Edith was afraid for you.

Afraid they would hurt you.

Medina's at the Airbnb.

Call her, then the police.

Is that wise?

You're an escaped convict
from a federal penitentiary.

Anything else?

We found Edith Sanchez.

Ray King wasn't murdered
because he was looking for Edith.

He was murdered because he found her.

Call Marybeth now.

Tell her I'm on my way.

And we need to find Edith's son Alberto.

He's being held as a prisoner in Juárez.

Okay, Chris. Understood.

Hello?

Someone's coming to kill you.

Marybeth?

Hello? Hello?

Drop it. Drop it!

Turn around.

I'm a federal agent. Big mistake.

Only if your name is not Marybeth Medina.

Hands!

Down on your knees.

Now!

¡Mamá!

¡Mami!

¡No!

You're Edith Sanchez.

Not anymore.

I think your child is a prisoner
in a compound in Juárez.

It's okay.

I need to put pressure on this.

Help is coming.

No, no. I-I paid you to kill her,

not to try and kill her.

Someone intervened in the hit.

An extraordinarily lethal someone.

Our contracts are enforced
until the target is dead

or the client's expired.

Enjoy your evening.

Go to Juárez.

Take those kids into the desert.

I want 'em dead and buried.

No trace.

Nothing to tie me to them.

Think you can handle that?

Yeah, Burke.

Yeah, I can handle that.

You show up in Juárez,
and then what?

How you even gonna find these kids?

- Not your concern.
- Ugh.

- You can leave.
- For Christ's sake.

How many times do I got to tell you?

What happened to Medina was not my fault.

All right? She said she wanted
nothing to do with us.

I just... I took her at her word.

She has a punctured lung, ruptured spleen
and a fractured jaw.

So don't send an Edible Arrangement.

How many times?

How many times I got to do it?

How many times I got to say I'm sorry?

I don't know.
You haven't said it one time.

Ah, you're so full of shit.

All this is about is about the goddamn kid
in the picture, right?

- You think he's like you.
- Yes.

- He's alone in Juárez.
- Oh, my God.

- Do you even care? Do you...
- How do you know that?

How do you know he's like you?

You are so weird, Chris.

You get these ideas in your head,
and you just obsess...

Goddamn it, you know how exhausting it is?

My entire life, I've had to clean up

after the weird kid, you know that?

- I'm not weird.
- Oh, you're not weird?

Every fucking time we move,
we go to a new town.

- What happens?
- Then you show up with your fits.

- I don't do that anymore, Braxton.
- Your rocking.

Your stupid Solomon Grundy bullshit.

Then I got to beat somebody's ass
'cause they put their hands on you.

No. You like to fight!

Ah, it ain't the goddamn point!

- The point is I always get
your fucking back, Chris! - Goodbye.

I get your back.

You ever say thank you?
"Wow. Gee, thanks, Brax.

Thank you for getting my back.

Thank you.
You are the best goddamn brother..."

What are you doing? You...

Goddamn it! What, you just gonna leave?

Fuck. You know what?
You want to go to Juárez?

Hey, let's go to Juárez.

Good for you.

Let's go get our asses shot off.

My drone's not responding.

I lost the feed.

Get 'em on. Get 'em on.

Load 'em up, load 'em up.
All the way to the back.

Fill it up. Vámonos.

Field trip. Follow them.

Get on the bus. Get 'em on.

Let's go! Everybody out!

Field trip! Get 'em on the bus!

You found it?

We found it.

How far?

- 11 minutes.
- Okay.

We'll wait till dark,
and then we'll go in.

Can you kill the lights?

Yes, but it won't matter.

Why not?

The children will be dead
before it's dark.

Braxton.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Get 'em all out!

Hey, all the kids on the bus! Field trip!

Rápido.

- ¿Qué me ven, cabrones?
- Get 'em all out!

- Muévanse. Ey, ey.
- Let's go!

Rápido.

Hey! Move on them!

Hold it down! I'll be right back!

Where you at, kid?

Where the fuck are you?

Hey, kid, where you at?

What are you doing?

The fuck do you think you're doing?

You trying to get me killed?
Get up! We're moving.

Come on. This way, this way. Go.

Fire back! Get down,
you dumb motherfucker!

Start the bus!

Go!

Fire, Chris! Go, go!

Move, move, move, move, move! Move!

- You're hit?
- I'm good.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. I'm good. Go.

- I'm fine, go. I'm fine. Hey, stop.
- No. You're hit.

Finish the fucking job.

I-I got these motherfuckers. Just go!

Go, Chris. Go get to those kids! Go!

Damn it.

Now, wait.

Wait.

Let's go.

I need to seal it.

Open up!

Help them off the bus.

Get off the bus.
Let's get this over with.

Come on. Move. Hey.

¡Ándale!

Get in the fucking hole!

Get in the hole now! Hurry up!

Move! Move!

Follow the person in front of you.

Go!

Come on. Follow them. Follow them.

Go. Hurry up.

Move!

You again? You again?

Hey, get up.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hey, back up. Back the fuck up!

Solomon Grundy,

- born on a Monday.
- Hey, I got a heavy figure!

Christened on Tuesday.

- I'm not the guy you want.
- Married on Wednesday.

- Burke is the guy you want.
- Sick on Thursday.

- Worse on Friday.
- Listen to me, man!

Died on Saturday.

- Listen to me!
- Buried on Sunday.

Burke is the guy...

That was the end of Solomon Grundy.

Alberto Sanchez?

It's okay.

It's okay.

Estás bien.

Estás seguro. Estás bien.

You're safe.

It's okay.

Estás a salvo.

Mm-hmm.

Let's go, yeah?

Vámonos.

It's okay.

Just go... go over to the bus, yeah?

Let's go. It's okay.

Who's that?

Hey, Chris, stop the bus.

- What?
- Stop the bus, man. Just...

Open the door.

Open the door, ding-dong.

Hello.

Hi.

Come here.

Hey.

Hi. Who are you?

Hi.

Chris.

She likes me, man.

Mm.

You want to...

You want to come home with me?

Chris.

Hey.

Hey.

Look at her.

Yeah.

Are you gonna be mine?

As I suspected.

What do you think, man?
What should I call her?

Huh?

That's a...

That's a male cat.

Da.

Batu Donetsk,

owner of the largest kill squad in Europe?

I'm sorry.

You have me confused with someone else.

52 years old.

Born in Nizhny Novgorod.

Russian, Romanian, Mongol descent.

Seven years in the prison
known as the Black Dolphin.

Married four times.

One child by a mistress.

Would you like me to tell you
the mileage on your Bentley?

What can I do for you?

Terminate the contract
on Marybeth Medina.

Why would I do that?

Let me tell you a story.

Ice cream...

Speak.

Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica.

Write it down.

How about you do your fucking job

and stick to the contract?

You said the contract would stay in place

until that Treasury bitch was dead.

Or until you expired.
Correct?

Well, I am very much alive.

- Consider it done.
- Good.

When?

Momentarily, sir.

Goodbye.

What?

Thanks.

- Gentlemen.
- Hello.

How are you?

- Nice to see you.
- Deputy Director.

- You doing okay?
- Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good.

Harbor Neuroscience Academy.

This is Deputy Director Medina,
U.S. Treasury.

Ma'am, I don't think you're calling
who you think you are.

I think I am.

I know you can hear me.

And I just wanted to say thank you.

Ray found Edith,
but you and Chris helped me

solve the rest of the puzzle.

Ray would be grateful.

And so am I.

Is that good, Aidan?

Uh, yeah, it looks good.

- All right.
- Awesome.

Oh, she's here. Come on.

- Let's go, Miles.
- Oh.

- Going.
- Let's go.

- Going now?
- Hold on. - Yeah.

♪ So follow me...

Kid's unbelievable.

- Braxton.
- It's-it's-it's...

- It's wildly unfair.
- He's a child, Braxton.

I don't care he's a child.
I'm a man. You're a man.

He's a kid. That's a cat. Who cares?

The point is we're supposed
to be taking turns.

He's been holding my cat
for the last hour and a half, Chris.

So when's it my turn?

How much longer, man?

Alberto.

¿Cuánto falta hasta Harbor?

Mil doscientas cuarenta y siete millas.

Oh, Jesus.

- Uh, 1,247 miles.
- It's amazing.

It's amazing how he can
just come up with that

but he can't figure out how long it takes

to give somebody else a turn
holding the damn cat.

He's like a freaking genius.

Just, um, out of idle curiosity,

what are your plans after, uh...

after we drop Alberto at Harbor?

- My plans?
- Mm-hmm.

- I-I don't know.
- Do you think, um...

Well, I made a reservation
at an RV park, uh,

at the Chattahoochee
for after we drop off Alberto,

a-and I thought we could go hiking there.

You-you made a reservation?

It's just an idea.

And-and what, we'd...
we-we'd stay in the Airstream?

I think it'll be fun.

I think it...

I think it might be fun, too.