All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S06E17.720p.WEB-DL.x264

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(GASPS)
DRIVER: Get out.

Through the door,
up the stairs.

She's waiting.

JACOB: Hello?
(WOMAN SOBBING)

Hello?
Where is she?

Please!
I'm begging you!

Help, Dad!

Oh, my God.

(DISTORTED MALE VOICE)
That's far enough.

Zoey, are you okay?

(SCREAMING)

Please, let her down.

You brought
the business manager?

Yes. She, uh,
has the laptop,
just like you said.

Did you know, Susan,
that the richest
26 people on Earth

have as much wealth
as the poorest 3.8 billion?

I find your boss' wealth
to be an act of immorality,

so my friends and I are
going to redistribute it

in small amounts
to those who need it more.

I-I will give you
whatever you want

if you just please
let Zoey down.

Sitting in the
Fidelity Savings
and Trust account

is $8.6-million bonus
that Jacob was given

for stopping the attempted
unionization of his employees.

I want it.

You... Wait. Hang on, Susan.
Can we talk about this?

Wrong answer.

(ZOEY SCREAMING)

Okay, okay, okay!
Just, stop!

You have my
routing numbers, Susan?

Fine.

ZOEY: Ow! (SCREAMING)

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

It's done.
Now just let her go.

Not quite.
But your firm has $36 million

at First Brooklyn
Savings Bank.

It's the surplus
from your corporate tax cut,

money your board of directors
intends to use

to buy back stocks
and boost profits

at the expense of workers.

I want it.

Okay, no.
I can't do that.

I don't have
authorization to...

Susan does.
If we can talk
about this, I...

(ZOEY SCREAMING)
No, no, stop. Stop!

I just... I said stop!

(CRYING)

Daddy! Please!

Okay. Fine.

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

Please, please, please!

Thank you both.

I can assure you these assets
will be redistributed

in a thoughtful manner
to those in need.

Zoey, thank you.

Jacob, you can have
your daughter back.

(SOBBING)

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Ted King?

Donald Ressler, FBI.

I was hoping to have a word
with you and your wife.

Is something wrong?

Just a few questions.
Uh, may I come in?

Is your wife at home?

My wife had been sick
for some time.

Cancer.

By the time the doctors
found it, it was too late.

I'm very sorry
for your loss.

No need to be sorry.

We had a good life,
Virginia and I.

Well, I'm here to ask you
about Katarina.

Who?

Your stepdaughter,
Katarina Rostova.

I don't know
who that is.

Now, Mr. King,
if you expect me

to believe
that you don't know...

Well, I don't care
what you believe.

If my wife had a daughter,
I think I'd know.

What is this anyway?
Why are you here?

We believe that
your wife's daughter

from a previous marriage
may be able to help us

identify and capture
the number one
on our most wanted list...

Raymond Reddington.

Now,

about Katarina...

I'm sorry you came
all this way,

but I don't know
who this is.

If my wife had a child
from a previous relationship,

she never told me.

I hope you find
this character you're
looking for. I really do.

But I'm afraid
I can't help you.

(DOORBELL RINGS)

Please, come in.
This is a first.

I have a lead.
You answering the door?

The Third Estate...
Where's Dembe?

...I know why they procured
the surveillance equipment

to help them breach
security systems

favored by
the aristocrac...

Are you listening?

In the six years
I've known you,

I can count on one hand
the amount of times

I've seen you without Dembe,
so, yeah, I'm listening,

for an answer
to my question.

Dembe and I are having
a bit of a disagreement
over methodology.

He thinks I'm being
heavy-handed.
LIZ: About what?

Finding the person who
turned me in to the police.

He's been unusually
oppositional.

I suggested
he take some time

to more thoroughly reflect
on my way of thinking.

Which is?
A top advisor
to the President

is orchestrating a plot
against your country.

She's engaged
the Third Estate
to help her.

Why? And who are they?

During the French Revolution,
they were the 99%.

Their goal was
to behead the 1%

in order to create
a more perfect union.
Sound familiar?

Our 99% wants to soak
the rich, not kill them.

Tell that to the billionaires
whose children

the Third Estate has
abducted from their homes.

The surveillance
equipment.

Five abductions
in the past 18 months,

ransomed for hundreds
of millions of dollars.

That's terrible,
but I seriously doubt
kidnapping rich kids

is the plot against America
Anna McMahon is orchestrating.

Or perhaps it's a way
to finance something
more diabolical.

Either way, it's a symptom
of where the world
is right now,

the rage of the many
against the few.

Like the rage you have against
the person who turned you in.

Both are indomitable.

Anna McMahon oversees
all our cases.

So if we bring this to her,

she's gonna know
we're going after her.

Well, that'd be
perfectly awkward.

I almost wish
I could be there

to see the expression on
her face when she finds out.

The Third Estate?
LIZ: You've heard of them?

I think they were mentioned
in an intel briefing.

Domestic political agitators.
Small potatoes.

According to Reddington,
they've kidnapped the children

of some of the wealthiest
people in the country.

Zoey Mercer, Oliver Paige,

Matt Ford, Mia Walker,
and Des Foy.

Scions of oil, real estate,
pharmaceuticals, and finance.

These are high-profile scions
from high-profile families.

If their kids
had been abducted,
why didn't we know about it?

Because they threatened to
kill them if they told anyone,

so they made payments
in private.

And the children?
Were they safely returned?

COOPER: Four of them were,
after their parents

paid nearly $300 million.
And the fifth?

Des Foy was taken
two days ago.
LIZ: Unlike the others,

his parents refused to
make the secret settlement

and went straight
to the NYPD.

COOPER: Aram,
talk to the department.
Tell them we will assist.

Keen, Ressler,
talk to the Foys.

I want options on how
to get their son back,
and I want them fast.

So much for small potatoes.

Why'd he bring
you this case?
I don't know or care.

A life hangs in the balance.
That's reason enough for me.

He has a reason.
I've read your case files.

He always
has a reason.
Yes.

Or a target.

MALE VOICE: Your son tells me
you hate going into the city.

But tomorrow,
you're gonna cross the river

and see how
the other half lives.
(SCREAMS)

There's a bus station
at 136th and Lincoln.

Be there at 11:00 a.m.,
come alone, or your son dies.

(SOBBING)

How long ago
did he call?
I'm not paying!

About an hour.
Not one goddamn penny!

Don't listen to him.
Please don't listen
to him. We'll pay.

If you go through
with the ransom drop,

we can use your money
to lure them in.

Five kids
have been taken.

And you know why
they keep on doing it?
Because it works.

If we give in,
someone else's kid
will be next.

I am not capitulating
to terrorists!

I don't care.
I want my son.

RESSLER: Negotiation
isn't capitulation.

The longer you string them
along, the more opportunities

we'll have
to locate your son.

You have every right
to be angry.

And when you're angry,
it's difficult
to trust people.

But you can trust us.
Our only interest
is Des' safety.

I'm not paying
the ransom.

But, if you think
it'll help get him back,

I will be on that bench
tomorrow.

As-Salaam-Alaikum, imam.

(SPEAKING ARABIC)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Na'eem tells me
you rented out

his entire restaurant
for Ramadan.

I wanted to sponsor a few
iftars for the community.

Now, you know I appreciate
all your contributions.

You basically built
our new tea room.
(CHUCKLES)

But I wish I saw less of
your checks and more of you.

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

You look troubled.

I've lived by blind faith even
when I don't like what I see.

I'm not sure
I can do that anymore.

The Foys
are playing ball.

I've already alerted
a TAC unit.

Surveillance vans
with audio feeds

are prepped
and ready to go.

Mr. Foy will be
wearing a tracker.

Are we gonna need
Mother Superior's okay?

I think where
she's concerned,
we'll go with

seeking forgiveness rather
than asking permission.

I told you,
it's under control.

MAN: They suspect you.
Which is why I'm here.

So it never amounts
to more than suspicion.

Need I remind you
what's at stake?

Sure, 'cause I'm gonna forget
that the fate of the country
hangs in the balance.

Failure is unacceptable.

So is having
no sense of humor.

Why don't you go take care
of your problem

and I'll take care
of mine?
(CELL PHONE BEEPS)

DEMBE: My word is my bond,
and before I break my word,

I will give my life.

And you have
given your word
to your employer?

My bond with him
extends through this life
and into the next.

But it brings you
no peace.

It has required
compromise,

lies, and killing,

seemingly without end.

The first principle
of Shariah

is the preservation
of human life.

Does your work with him
save the lives of innocents?

It did.

Now I'm not so sure.

Perhaps this question
is not about your employer,

but about you.

Perhaps you have begun
to wonder,

is there more to life
than protecting him?

And my bond?

(INHALES DEEPLY)

There are many Jihads
in this world.

But the hardest Jihad
you will ever fight

is the one
with yourself.

It is our prophet's ideal,

peace be on him,

to fulfill your oath,

but not at the expense
of your soul

or finding your
true intention in life.

Is it self-glory

or in defense
of a higher cause?

If it is the latter,

then you must always guard
the purity of your intention

against corruption
by Shaitan.

Relax. You've got eyes
all around. We're gonna
bring your son home.

I'm still not giving
him my money,
so your plan better work.

Aram, you good?

ARAM: His cell's up.
I got him pinned.

HRT is standing by.

Mr. Foy,
just do what they say.

We'll make our approach
when we know both you
and Des are safe.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)
Aram, heads up.

Okay, here we go.

Uh, guys.
That's not his cell.

There's a phone here.
What should I do?

Answer it.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

MAN: You have
the routing number?
Yes.

Aram, talk to me. Tell me
you can pull that audio.

No, but I'm gonna try and
triangulate that signal.

I'm working on it now.

MAN: Take your cell phone
and drop it in the trash.

Across the street
is a coffee shop.

Go inside.

LIZ: He dumped his cell.

Asset's on the move,
headed south on Fordham.

Aram?
ARAM: Hang on.
I'm working on it.

Mr. Foy, we can't
hear that cell,

but we're right here
with you.

MAN: Inside, there is a young
woman sitting near the window.

She has something for you.

Okay, guys,
we got a problem.

This signal is bouncing from
mirror site to mirror site,

and I can't seem to...
Whoa.

What happened?
I lost signal.

ARAM: Caller hung up.

They're operating Foy.
Someone's got eyes.

RESSLER: I'm guessing they got
a spotter out here.

See if you can pull him up
on our recon feeds
and get a visual.

RESSLER: Mr. Foy, be careful.

It seems like we're dealing
with a team here.

LIZ: Aram, let me know if you
get a visual and a location.

ARAM: I'm working on that now.

DAVID: Now they're
directing me to a car.

Do I get in?
What car? Where?

DAVID: Black Mercedes.
Out back, I think.

There!
ARAM: Okay, yes,
we got your spotter.

Hotel rooftop.
137th and Rider.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)
Yes?

MAN: Who are you
talking to, Mr. Foy?

What? No one.
You bring friends?

Some sort of K&R team
that you think can help?

No, no, wait.
Now, you listen to me.

That was a mistake, David.

(VEHICLE DOOR CLOSES)
Hey!

Whoever you are,
I'm gonna use

every dollar I have
to hunt you down.

Agent Ressler,
black G-Wagon
headed your way.

(TIRES SCREECH)

ARAM: All right,
the spotter is packing up,

headed for the fire escape on
the east side of the building.

(POLICE RADIO CHATTER)

You assured me.
LIZ: Mr. Foy,
please calm down.

Don't tell me to calm down.
You don't tell me anything.

I should never
have listened to you.

Mr. Foy,
we're absolutely doing
everything in our power...

(CELL PHONE RINGING)
Uh, how do you want
to handle this?

Give me that.
RESSLER: No!

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Hello.
It's me. I'm here.

No, please. Call my dad.
He's rich. He'll pay.

MAN: I gave you
instructions.

You disobeyed them,
so we're done.

Please, no!

(GUNSHOTS)

There's got to be a clue
in here somewhere.

The wardrobe,
those masks.

Why are they wearing
those masks?

I feel like we're responsible
for what happened.

They look like
death masks.

If we hadn't lost the father,
if I'd found that spotter,

we could've found out
where they were and stop...

Des Foy is dead
because his father

refused to pay
the ransom.

That's on him.

If we don't catch
these guys and someone
else dies, that's on us.

(MOUSE CLICKS)

That's it.

What's it?
The rack.

Uh, what about the rack?
That's our lead.

A torture device
from the 18th century?

Antique weapons.
The rare and the macabre.

Do you know
who trades in them?

(CHUCKLING) Oh my, yes.
I know just the person.

Marie Mortel.
Thumbscrews.

Iron spiders.
The occasional Judas Cradle.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
What's your fancy?

LIZ: I'm texting you
a picture of the rack
used by the kidnappers.

Can you send it to her
and tell us what
she knows about it?

Gladly. I've been meaning
to pay her a visit.

Judas Cradle.
People use this?

Yes. Often
quite voluntarily.

(BEEP)

Dembe.

How are we?

I'm a student conforming
to your teachings.

Some of which I like,
some of which I don't.

I don't expect you
to like it all.

And you can leave
at any time.

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

But if you stay, I need
to know I can count on you.

My word is my bond.

Yes.

Good.

I want you to set a meeting
with Maxwell Ruddiger.

Very few people knew
I was in New York

on the day
I was arrested.

He was one.
He was there.

So, please, call Ruddiger.

What do you plan
to do with him?

I have no plan
one way or another.

The hood worn
by the executioner
who beheaded Anne Boleyn.

Your basic enema pump.

Skull crusher.

Ah! (CHUCKLES)

Judas Cradle,
of course.

And the pistol used
in the attempted assassination
of Bismark in 1866.

Oh, my goodness!
A holy nail.

One of 30 in existence.

Discovered at the base
of the True Cross

and placed in the
Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre
in Jerusalem.

Marie, you've
outdone yourself.

I'm not the one who beat
death by lethal injection.

Is it too much to ask
you've brought me
one of the syringes?

(LAUGHING) I didn't.

But whatever object
does lay me low,

I'd be honored if it ended up
in your collection.

So, what brings you?
Are you buying or selling?

I'm wondering if you
can help us locate

this, an ancient device
resurrected to inflict
contemporary pain.

Constitutio Criminalis
Theresiana.

The criminal code
of Maria Theresia,

archduchess of Austria.

Promulgated in 1768

to unify criminal law
throughout Europe.

The rack is part
of a legal code?

A key part,
judicial torture.

That is a rare piece.
Belongs in my collection.

Help us find it, and
I'll make sure that happens.

I'll ask around.

If it's authentic,
I'll find its provenance.

But enough shop talk.

I have to show you
a saber

Genghis Khan used
to kill hordes of hordes.

Forgive the pun,
but it's to die for.

I've been thinking a lot
about our last conversation.

Well, I appreciate
you calling.

You said you
remembered something.

I'm afraid I wasn't completely
upfront with you before.

About what?

I met Virginia in 1998.

The love of my life.

I-I knew it the moment
I laid eyes on her.

She told me she was
from Saint Petersburg,

uh, that she'd split with
her husband in her 40s,

came to America
to start over,

and spent the rest
of her life here.

T-That was that.

Until about
eight years ago.

I found a photograph

between the pages of a book
in the bedroom.

She said it was the only photo
she had of her daughter,

and that they'd had
a falling-out

and that she hoped that they
would reconnect at some point.

They were in touch?

Uh, no,
I-I don't think so.

But they could have been.

Virginia didn't talk
about it.

She said
it was "too painful,"

that, uh, the falling-out
that they had had

was her "greatest regret."

I see.

Near the end,
Virginia wrote
her a letter.

Uh, I don't know
if she wrote
any other letters,

but by that time,
she was in hospice,

so she asked me
to mail it.

It was her way of
clearing the air, I guess.

Get some closure
before she...

Well, anyway...

She gave me the address,
and I mailed it.

Mailed it where?

Post Office box.
Upstate New York.

Do you remember
the address?

This girl,
Virginia's daughter.

Katarina, uh, Rostova,
you call her.

I looked her up.

They say she's some kind
of Russian spy.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Yes. She was a Russian spy.

(RINGING CONTINUES)

I'm sorry.
Uh, give me a minute.

Yeah?

LIZ: Remember the getaway car?
Black Mercedes?

Yeah, I remember.
Aram uncovered

a suspicious-vehicle report
filed 48 hours ago...

Black Mercedes G-Wagon,
no plates.

Right. Who filed it?

Della Whitmore, the
pharmaceutical heiress.

Apparently she spotted the car
loitering outside her mansion.

Does she have kids?
22-year-old son.

All right.
Text me the address.

(BEEP)

I'm sorry.
My apologies, Mr. King.

Your wife, we believe

she may have been running
from someone or something.

If that's true,

then I really
didn't know her.

LIZ: Mrs. Whitmore,
I need you to tell us
exactly what they said.

They said that they would
call us back with demands

and that they'd kill him
if we didn't do as instructed.

And you called the police?
They told us not to.

This is a terrible situation,
but I have to tell you

that the last person
whose son was taken

refused to pay the ransom,
and his son was killed.

They're all
too well aware of that.

How are you
holding up, Dell?

You okay?

You know each other.
Marcus.

These are the agents
I was telling you about.

My son is dead
because of them.

Please, I'm begging you.

Do not listen to a word
they say to you.

Excuse me. We're looking
for Noel Gerrick.

Here he comes.

(TIRES SCREECH)

And there he goes.

(TIRES SCREECH)

Wouldn't a racetrack
be better suited
to this sort of activity?

He used to come here
all the time as a kid.

When he made
his first billion,
he bought the park.

He loves this place.

I'm Steve Homan.
And you are?

Bored to tears.

Tell me, why is it that
men your age feel the need

to compensate for an
increasingly flaccid penis?

It's only natural.

So is cholera.

I do hope you're not
the poor man's girlfriend.

Don't be perverse.

I'm much too old
to be his girlfriend.

I'm his daughter.

Well, aren't you
being a good sport.

You shouldn't
go out there.

Men my age
don't compensate.

We do what we want.

Youth compensates.

With disrespect
and poor taste.

Mister,
you gotta move.

Let's say he's doing
about 100.

The stopping distance
will be around 600 feet.

A flaccid, old man could
never think that fast.

(TIRES SCREECH)

Perhaps your father has
a bit more pep in his step
than you think.

You trying to get
yourself killed?

(GUN COCKS)
What the...

Scoot over, Noel.
I'm driving.

Just to be clear,
you want us to pay the ransom.

Absolutely. These are
kidnappers, not killers.

They killed my son.
I-I'm sorry, yes.

And they will pay dearly
for that.

But what I'm trying to say
is that everyone who has paid

the ransom has gotten
their child back.

And given these killers
the incentive to take
another child.

RESSLER: We'll track
your payment.

It should lead us
to them before
they can take anyone else.

(CELL PHONE RINGS)
Excuse me.

This is Agent Ressler.

Yeah, hi.
This is Jake Li

over at the Postbox Elite
in Wilmington.

Got a message the FBI
was interested in some
security footage?

That's right. We're looking
for a person who picked up

a letter from Box 642

in probably the first week
of February.

This is a terribly
difficult decision.

Actually, it's not.

Finally. We agree
on something.

Could Marcus and I
have a moment?

Of course.
Take your time.

Thank you.
(BEEP)

Everything okay?

I was about to ask you
the same thing.

Yeah, just, uh, tracking
a letter I was expecting.

All's good.

NOEL: What the hell
is wrong with you?

Stop the car!
Let me out!

I suspect you have an interest
in history, Noel.

Did you know, shortly before
her date with the guillotine,

Marie Antoinette had a chance
to escape from France?

But she just couldn't bear
to travel like a commoner.

She insisted on
a rosewood carriage

lined in ivory,
large enough for herself,

three chambermaids,
four footmen,

and all of their luggage.

The finished product
was so decadent,

it could only go about
two miles per hour

before breaking down
altogether.

Just imagine if this
had been her getaway car.

She could've
settled in London

and eaten cake
for the next 50 years.

Good golly.
I haven't moved this fast

since my first date
with Jenn Parsons
at the roller rink.

If we could maybe just pull
over? Talk outside the car?

Constitutio Criminalis
Theresiana.

The criminal code that
sanctioned Marie's beheading

as well as
judicial torture.

The rack was a particularly
gruesome tool

in the Ancien Regime's
torture kit.

I understand you
purchased one at auction.

I like legal history,
how laws were enforced.

A rather peculiar hobby
I'd love to hear more about,

but as I'm pressed for time,
let's focus on the rack.

Who did you sell it to?
Nobody.

Is this vinyl?
It's premium vinyl.

(LAUGHS) Good. The blood
will wipe right off.

Please!
Watch where you're going!

A name.
I didn't sell it.

I-I'm not a dealer.
I'm a collector.

Ahh.
Where's your collection?

That's your decision?

It's the right thing to do.
For who? Not your son.

We sent two children to war,
in Iraq and Afghanistan.

That wasn't "good"
for them, either.

But it was the
right thing to do.

Trust me, it's not
the same thing.

DELLA: No, it's not.

In a war, the enemy
is hard to defeat.

If you do your job,
then this enemy,

whoever they are,
should be easy to defeat.

Do your job,

and then we can do the right
thing and save our son.

(CELL PHONE VIBRATING)

Anything?

An address.

Aram, hey.
What do we know?

Exposed on all sides.
Poor sight lines on our end.

No easy point of entry.
Unsubs?

Spotters count six.
Could be double that.

No way to tell.
Can you get us cameras inside?

My team can snake a borescope
down 300 feet of sewer line,

up through the kitchen sink,
but I can't do it here.

Not while
remaining unseen.

What about their cameras?
Whose cameras?

Uh, well, it appears
they have IR bullet cams,

uh, here, here, and here,
which means it's likely

they have internal
surveillance, too.
What are you getting at?

Well, if you could get me up
to the building's trunk line,

there's a chance I could
splice into the multiplexer,

get you access
to their feeds.

Who's this guy again?

Oh, I'm so sorry.
Uh, Agent Mojtabai.

And you're...
Very commanding, sir.

Thank you.

RESSLER:
Say we try to do this.

Even if you could
splice into those feeds,
how do you suggest

we do it without
tipping them off?

(POUNDING ON DOOR)

(LATCH CLICKS)
Hi.

Uh, Navid from, uh, uh,
Insta... Insta Cable.

I got a...
I got an install
across the street.

Their gang supply is mounted
on your building.

Mind letting me
access the cable box?

Sorry. It's not a good time.
Oh, oh.

I, uh, I got to access
that gang supply.

I didn't order cable.

Maybe you, uh,
don't understand.

If I call out a bucket truck,
they're gonna see that you're

bypassing the terminal
block screw

and they're gonna fine you.
It's not to code.

All right. Whatever, lady.
Your problem.

Hold on. Just, uh...
What exactly do you
need us to do?

Hey, it's me. I think
we got a situation.

What kind of situation?

There was some guy
here at the track,

asking my dad questions.

Navid? Why don't
you come with me?

Okay, just, um,
hold on a second.

Now!

Look, um, whatever
you think this is...

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Hey.

You're, uh,
what, like a...
Like a guard?

Tell me if the...
The Whitmore boy, Tyler.

Is, um... Is he here?

Is he safe?

If you let me talk
to whoever's in charge,
I can help you.

You have my wallet,
my cell phone,

so you know by now
that I'm an FBI agent.

I need to speak to
whoever's in charge, please.

You hear me?

Hey, hey, listen to me.
Listen. I'm trying
to help you.

You need to get
whoever's in charge

and tell them that the FBI
is gonna call that phone

right there
any minute now.

They're... They're gonna
try to make contact,

and when they do,
you need to answer.

Do you hear me?
Come on.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

You need to answer
that phone.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

COOPER: Talk to me.

HRT's on the line with
one of the kidnappers now.

Aram and
the Whitmore kid,

have we confirmed
they're unharmed?
No.

They're thinking
about breaching,

but they don't
know the layout,
how many people are inside,

or how heavily armed they are.

I can't do that.
Not unless you give me
something in return.

This is Deputy Director
Harold Cooper, FBI.

I'm gonna hang up,
and you're gonna call
me back on FaceTime.

When you do,
I want to see the hostages,
make sure they're all right.

We have nothing to discuss
until that happens.

(CELL PHONE BEEPS)

You really think that was
the best way to handle it?

No, I think it was
the only way.

(CELL PHONE RINGS, BEEPS)
Agent Mojtabai.

Sir.
Am I glad to see you.

Are you hurt?
I'm fine.

And the other hostage?

MAN: We haven't hurt anyone.

Who am I speaking with?

They'll stay that way
unless you
do something stupid.

That's not gonna happen.
We're not going to storm in.

We're just gonna talk.
You and me.

There's got to be
a way out of this,

and I need you to help me
figure out what it is.

Now tell me.
What is your name?

He saw my face.
He can identify me.

I think being identified
is the least of our concerns
right now.

Listen. You have to let
Tyler Whitmore go. Not me.

You can keep me here,
but the boy needs
to be set free.

If you don't, they are
gonna swarm this building,

and it'll be a show of force
unlike anything

that you have
ever seen before.

You don't have to let me go.
I can be your hostage.

Me. I can be your hostage.

But he's got to walk.
He's got to walk.

Try something like that
again, and see if I
don't pull the trigger.

If you let me help you...
Shut up, shut up!

I saw what
you did to Des Foy.
I watched him die.

And I saw what it's done
to his parents.

I'm... I'm begging you.
Please. Come on.

Don't do that.

Just...

Let Tyler Whitmore go.

Commander, is HRT prepared
to breach or not?

We are. Just waiting
on the go order.

Which you do not have.

If we go in,
the hostages will die.

You don't know that.

I know
they'll have no incentive
to keep them alive.

If we keep negotiating,
they do.

You've been negotiating
for almost an hour,

and what do you have
to show for it?

Absolutely nothing, because
there is nothing to negotiate.

We're not letting them go,

and they're not giving
the hostages up.

You have to trust
the process.

No.
Actually, I don't.

You may have operational
command of the Task Force,

but in the field, I will
not take orders from you.

You're not. You're taking
orders from her.

Della Whitmore bundled
$32 million for the midterms,

single-handedly re-electing
the chairman

of the Senate Armed
Services Committee.

The Chairman
will do anything for her,

including rolling tanks
on that warehouse

if that's what it takes
to free her son.

So either you send in HRT,

or he sends in
the National Guard.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

(WHISPERING INDISTINCTLY)

You should know
we've decided not
to release Whitmore.

Figure there's no point
spending the rest
of our lives in prison.

We're gonna fight.
Don't do that.

I'm not going to prison.

(GRUNTING)

Here's what you're gonna do.

You're gonna tell me
where Tyler Whitmore is,

and you're gonna help me
get him out of this building.

You hear me?
Where is he?

I'm right here.

Des?

I...

You're alive?

I thought...
You thought we were
the victims

of the Third Estate?

We are the Third Estate.

* Here stands a man

* With a bullet
in his clenched

* Right hand

* Don't push him, son

* For he's got the power

* To crush this land

* Oh, hear

* Hear him cry, boy

* Don't you ever

* Leave me alone

* My war is over

* Be my shelter

* From the storm

* Here stands a man

* At the bottom
of a hole he's made

* Still sweating from the rush

* His body tense

* His hands, they shake

* Oh, this

* This is a mad boy

Des, talk to me
about the ransom money.

I need to know where it
was sent. I need a name.

All your friends
are going to jail.

If you cooperate,
we can help you.

The money.

I think you kicked it
upstairs to the head
of the Third Estate.

Who is he?

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

His lawyer's here.

I'm not talking
to any lawyers.

You know, I understand
you're angry.

Angry at your father.

My guess is you knew
he was never gonna
pay that ransom

and that you felt
like he didn't care
if you came home or not.

For what it's worth, I did.

I wanted to see you get
back home to your family.

And I'm... I'm really sorry
your friend Tyler didn't.

He's dead?

I'm sorry.

Des, we need your help.

Talk to us about
who runs the Third Estate.

* I am a sad boy *

(SNORING SOFTLY)

(LIGHT SWITCH CLICKS)

I took the liberty.

W-Who are you?
What do you want?

Anna McMahon.

I don't know who that is.
Ohh, you're too modest.

You are the Third Estate.

You got trust-fund babies
to go on a kidnapping spree,

and you kicked
the ransom money to one
of the most powerful

figures in the
United States government.

I want to know why.

I-I-I don't know what
you're talking about.

(SHELL CASING CLATTERS)

Refresh your memory?

(BREATHING SHAKILY)
No?

(GUNSHOT,
SHELL CASING CLATTERS)

How about now?

Please stop.
(GASPS)

Last chance.

Anna McMahon.

You can spill your guts
or your brains.
I'm good either way.

(BREATHING SHAKILY)

COOPER: So there's
no connection?

If there was,
he would've told me.

Anna McMahon isn't working
with the Third Estate.

Doesn't appear so.
But Olivia Olson's files.

McMahon turned all of them
over to Main Justice

except the file
on the Third Estate.

Why would she do that if
they weren't working together?

I knew they'd check
to see if I withheld anything,
so I did.

You held their file
from Main Justice
because you wanted

to put the Third Estate
on the FBI's radar screen?

As a result, the FBI
now knows about
an organization

hell-bent
on domestic terrorism,

on taking down
the rich and powerful.

So when we put our plan
into effect...

Like I said,
it's under control.

All we know for sure, Harold,
is that Anna McMahon

is a much worthier adversary
than we thought.

A fact which,
much to my dismay,
I find oddly arousing.

Maybe it's the red hair.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

We have a problem.

Reddington told me
you two had a falling-out.

We did.
Over our problem.

Our secret,
yours and mine.

He can't know
who turned him in.

He won't stop looking.

So? He looks.

It's a puzzle
he can't solve.
So what?

Ruddiger.

Maxwell Ruddiger?
What about him?

He was in New York the day
you turned in Raymond.

So?

I've set an appointment
for him to meet with Raymond.

Ruddiger's a friend.

Maybe. Maybe not.

You think he'd do
something to Ruddiger?

To set an example.

For anyone who knows
the identity of the person

who turned him in
to come forward.

Is that what
you're gonna do?

Come forward?

I'm coming forward
to you.

You must tell him, Elizabeth,
because if you don't, I will.

Ruddiger?

An appointment
has been set.

Excellent!

A silver lining at the end
of a grimly overcast day.

I was wrong
about Anna McMahon.

We're no closer to
identifying her plot
than we were yesterday.

But Ruddiger... I have
a good feeling about him.

Jake Li?

That's right.
Donald Ressler.

We spoke on the phone
about box 642?

Sure.
I looked into the security
footage like you asked.

The drives cycle out after
90 days, but I took a look.

And box 642 was accessed
only once in that time.

February, like you said.
13th.

I printed
the best image I could.

I don't understand.
The letter was sent
to a woman.

Well, the box is registered
to a Tracey Ivers,

but that's the guy
who picked it up.

Do you know him?
Can't say I do.

Phone number's
disconnected.

The account's paid
by money order.

But anyone with a key
can obviously open the box.

He in some kind of trouble?
What did he do?

Wish I knew more.

I asked everyone here.
We got no idea who he is.

How about we start
with that hard drive?

Sure.

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