Original subtitles

Mikhail Durko is in custody. His nephew, Timur Novikov, is dead.

-There was a name. Gallagher. -Gallagher?

Yeah, just like it sounds.

Set a meeting with the Belarusian consul general.

I told you before, I don't know anyone named Volchek.

How hard would it be to get inside the consulate's computer systems?

I could install a rootkit. Then we'd be in.

-You say the headaches are worse? -I'm just looking for a little relief.

Live out the time you have left in as much comfort as you can.

Wish I could, Doc.

Nice.

Whirlybirds at 50 feet?

Yeah, go ahead.

Yeah. Good.

Don't patronize me.

-Let's see you. Come on. -All right.

Okay. I remember.

Airborne ranger.

Plus a distinguished expert.

-What does that mean? -Marksmanship.

It's the highest ranking. But that's for others to tell people.

I wouldn't think of telling you something like that.

-Oh, no. You would never. -No.

All right. Show me. Hit dude in the window.

-Why? What'd he do to me? -Punched your mom in the balls.

-Jesus. -You heard me.

What's wrong with you?

All right.

When we're in a firefight, you stand right next to me.

Done.

Mr. Harris, it sure is a pleasure having you here in person.

I'm sure you'll find everything's in order in the contract.

It's pretty boilerplate, standard fare.

When could I expect delivery?

Give the bank a couple of days to transfer funds,

and I don't see why you can't have delivery by Friday.

That would be beautiful.

-Does your CFO need to look at anything? -No. I base my business on trust.

And I trust you'll deliver when you say.

We will see you on Friday.

I look forward to it.

Always good to see American capitalists

so happy to make sales.

It brings them their greatest joy.

Give them a month. They won't be smiling.

I'd drink to that with the best vodka from the homeland,

but seems all on hand is a coffee shop in the lobby.

You want one?

Black. Two sugars.

Vusovich?

Or should I call you "Volchek?"

I am Iosif Astapov.

The Belarusian Consul General.

I am here to tell you your government is prepared to take a fresh look

at your legal troubles in the homeland.

I think you have the wrong man.

I am sure I do not.

The Americans are closing in on you.

They came to my office, asking a lot of questions.

They even broke into our computer servers,

fishing for information about you.

Still, Belarus would prefer not to antagonize our host country.

It would be in our best interest

if you give up whatever plans you hold here

and return to Minsk.

You'll be welcomed back to your birth country with open arms.

I will consider your offer.

Do not think long.

I found you once.

I can do it again, huh?

Okay. So, as you know,

we have been painstakingly drilling down on the name Gallagher.

The one that Meachum saw in the map in the basement of the dance hall.

It did take some time, but we were able to find this man.

Shawn Killian Gallagher.

He was friends with Timur Novikov in high school.

And in 2013, they were arrested together for carjacking.

And we're just finding out about this now?

He was a minor when it happened, so his records were sealed,

but Bell worked a friendly judge.

-Called in a favor. -Good job.

Turns out Gallagher was arrested twice more for drug trafficking.

He did two short stretches and is currently out on parole.

Okay. Meachum and I will talk to his PO.

Uh, sir.

The Belarusian consulate discovered our rootkit and severed the connection.

We no longer have access to their classified files.

Also, I find it curious that they didn't close the consulate

or report they've been breached or infiltrated.

I mean, Meachum took down three of their security detail.

You would've thought that made it to the wire.

Yeah. Well, with things so tense at home,

the Consul General Astapov likely wanted to keep things quiet

so as not to draw heat from his superiors.

My dad used to call that a CYA rug sweeper.

Exactly.

-Thank you. -Thank you.

-You really with DEA? -Fifteen years.

You know I applied there?

They said I was in line, but it's real political.

Yeah. It's not something they'll say on record,

but it's all about who you know.

I guess I don't know the right people.

Come in. Come in. Have a seat. Have a seat.

Good to see you fellow law enforcement officers in here.

Yeah. Departments working together. It's the symmetry that gets you places.

I read about the LAPD and the FBI not getting along,

but different breed dogs work in the same pack.

Am I right?

Um, so...

...we understand that you are Shawn Gallagher's parole officer.

I'm the senior PO for a lot of bad hombres. Let me check.

Yeah. Shawn Gallagher. This guy.

-He's a real fried egg. -What does that mean?

He's one of those, uh... whatchamacallit... um, doomsdayers.

"The end of times are coming," you know?

"The cell towers are turning our water to poison." That type of thing.

-Right. -He's all the way into it.

I give him about 92% chance he violates before his time's up.

Mark my words.

Has he been making his regular appointments?

-Yeah. -Secured employment?

You know, I think so, but, uh, looks like I'm a little backed up.

I haven't updated the system.

-How about, uh, an LKA? -Of course.

What's the average on... on violators?

-About 70% get rearrested the first year. -You're kidding.

I'm not, sir. Not about that.

Uh, here we go. House in Highland Park.

-Hmm. -You, uh... You want me to text it to you?

Oh, no. No, that's, uh...

We can... ...not do that.

Look at this.

Boom. See?

Got it. Thank you for your time.

Uh, Sam Johnson.

In case you wanna put in a word for me with your bosses at the DEA.

Yeah. I-I will do that.

Stan Jackson. Got it. Okay.

In here.

All of you.

This morning, following my meeting,

I was confronted by Iosif Astapov,

the Consul General of Belarus.

I don't know how he found me, just that he did.

He meant to intimidate me,

but he will find that throwing rocks at a bear

is a way to get your face mauled.

He will not spoil my plans to bring this country to its knees!

I want to know his schedule,

what he does every hour of every day.

I want to know everything about his daily routine...

where he eats, where he sleeps, where he smokes his cigarettes, okay?

Understood?

Find out! Today!

-Well, this is it. -All right.

-All right. -Oof.

What's going on?

Nothing. Just like... You know when you drink an Icee too fast?

Well, we're good. Let's go.

You guys cops?

Yeah. LAPD. You should go back inside.

You looking for Shawn Gallagher?

Yeah. You know him?

I know he hasn't been there in months.

That place is a ghost house.

All right. Go back inside.

-He took my hot plate, if you see it. -Not gonna tell you again.

All right. This guy's a prep per, so he's probably gonna be strapped.

Shawn Gallagher, police. Open up.

Well, look at that.

That would've sucked.

Jesus.

-Clear. -Clear.

This guy's not home.

It looks like he hasn't been home for weeks.

Let's get out of here before a grenade goes off.

-Should we grab the neighbor's hot plate? -Ah, fuck that guy.

All right. Well, Shawn Gallagher was definitely there.

The place was like a booby-trapped little house of horrors.

-That dude is out there. -Yeah.

Yeah. I looked under the hood on him,

including the list of visitors he received during his various jail stints,

and the same name popped up in over ten different visitor logs

for dates over the course of a year.

Wade Trippett.

Record?

Drunk and disorderly from five years ago, but no felonies and no jail time.

That many visits? He's not just a friend.

-You and Finau go talk to Trippett. -Oh, thank God.

I've had all the wacko ambushes I can take for a day.

Tag. You're it.

Yeah. I have his work address. It's Shoe Heaven, at the Vine.

Oh, come on. A mall?

Yeah. I called earlier, and he's working right now.

Oh, great. We get trip wires, these guys get to go shoe shopping?

Let me know what size Jordans you want, bro.

Yeah. You're not funny.

Twelve!

If they have it.

Every morning, Astapov walks in Pan Pacific Park,

from 7:00 to 8:00.

He goes home, showers,

and is in his car heading to the Consulate by 8:30.

He stops at Levain bakery on Larchmont, then on to the Consulate.

Okay...

At the Consulate, he stays most days till 4:30.

He has a standing table at République on La Brea.

Every Tuesday and Friday night, 7:30.

Other nights, home or Consulate engagements.

Okay. Very good.

Of course.

Send Danill in to see me.

You wanted to see me?

I have been deciding on the best place to strike Astapov.

I want to send him a message...

...you threaten me,

you will know what a true threat looks like.

We will take him in this parking lot outside of the bakery.

-When? -In the next few days.

I understand.

Send in Radoslav.

You ever been here before?

Nah. Not a lot of Gang Unit work at the mall.

There it is.

What size are these?

-You asked for a size 6, ma'am. -Well, these are too small for a size 6.

You put them in the wrong box.

They are what they are, ma'am.

Well, could you just go get me a real size 6 please?

Okay. Can I help you?

Special Agent Keyonte Bell with the FBI.

Someplace we can talk?

Uh... Sure. Yeah.

Of course. Uh, just give me a second here.

I need to run to the back and get this lady another box of...

Yes, I visited Shawn Gallagher in jail, but it's not what you think.

I was his AA sponsor.

He was struggling. He was trying to get clean, but...

You know CIA, right? Catholic Irish Alcoholic?

They get all the genetic cards dealt against them.

Anyway, he called me when he was in a fix, like he should've done, but...

This is embarrassing. I... I fell off the wagon that day,

and I didn't see the call.

That's when Shawn got aiding and abetting.

He got put in the pokey for a two-year stretch.

I felt guilty as hell, man.

I mean, I'm his life preserver, and I let him drown.

That's why I went to visit him all the time.

I tried to get him work when he got out,

helped him get a house in Highland Park,

but he fell in this really bad cult kinda shit.

Like end-of-days stuff, man.

I haven't seen him or heard from him in months.

He's on the wagon or-or off the wagon...

I don't know.

Do you have any idea where he might be?

Yeah. He moved into a trailer park out in Needles, California.

-Where's Needles? -High desert.

-Wonderful. -You have an address?

I do, actually.

It's on my phone. Can I...

Yeah, yeah.

Okay.

Do not call him. Do not try to warn him we're coming.

Or you're gonna see us again.

No. Man, I-I'm shut of it all.

Okay. Don't let your guilt tell you otherwise.

I won't.

Needles, California, is appropriately named.

It's the meth capital of the state,

with a crime rate that makes Chicago look like the Garden of Eden.

Uh. That's my people.

I counted at least 14 trailer parks,

but Gallagher's address puts him here at Vista Luna.

We think in the plot abutting the Mojave.

But the only way to approach is through the rest of the park.

Groovy.

Okay. Bell with Finau. Oliveras with Meachum.

Move on him at sunrise. Let's hope we catch him sleeping one off.

-Bring him in for questioning. -Yes, sir.

You're in position at the bakery?

-Yes. -He's not going there.

Headed into the Consulate now.

-You're sure? -Yes, sir.

All right.

Time to level with me.

Meaning?

Something's up.

What are you talking about?

You're squinting your left eye more than your right.

You use the stairs, and it takes you 20 minutes to climb down 12 flights.

-I told you I left my phone at my desk. -Don't fucking bullshit me.

I know junkie behavior when I see it.

You're hiding shit, you're lying straight to my face.

You're acting like a user.

Hmm.

Something you should know a little bit about, huh?

Okay. So I guess we're going there.

I figure we're pretty much partners by this point,

so maybe this time, we put all our cards on the table.

Fucking fine.

You want my cards? Here are my cards.

You know where I'm from?

I'm from the suburbs of Chicago.

Grew up a little suburban chick.

Do you know what it takes for a woman to go undercover

in Matamoros or Tijuana

when she spent her formative years on a lake 2,000 miles north?

Balls.

That's right.

And that does something to your head.

I was doing eight months UC work in Brownsville, in Matamoros.

And one night, two narcos held a gun to my head

and said if I didn't needle up with some black tar, I wasn't gonna leave the room.

So I did.

And over three, four weeks, I shot up probably have a dozen times.

And they thought, "Well, there's no way this bitch is a cop.

Es una yonki."

Just a junkie.

When I came in from the cold, I got clean, and my SAC covered for me.

Kept me away from the drug testers.

These fucking guys who have never been in the field.

Never had to choose between a needle or a bullet.

Just want you to know, I haven't dipped since.

Not once.

But goddamn, if I don't think about it...

Not every day, and the stretches are getting longer and longer, but yeah.

I think about shooting up again. I do.

And sometimes I wonder if that feeling will ever go away.

And that's it, Meachum. That's all I got.

You're the first person I told that story to.

Well, that sucks ass.

Yeah. Agreed.

Your turn.

I'm dealing with migraines for the first time in my life.

Migraines?

Yeah. You know...

Dark tunnel, pain, nausea. The works.

I just gave you complete honesty.

So I'm gonna look you in the eye, and I'm gonna ask you straight up.

You're not on something?

I am not.

The adrenaline gene? Oh, I got that for sure.

But the other one? The drugs?

I don't have it.

Okay.

You talk to a doctor about it?

I have, yeah.

I keep asking him for some stronger meds,

'cause this over-the-counter bullshit isn't workin'.

He won't do it unless I report it to the brass,

and then they'll just put me on desk duty.

So, just gonna have to live with these sons of bitches until the mission's over.

You're just eating the pain?

Yep. I mean, look, what happened to Drew...

This mission is just too important, so I'm just gonna deal with it.

I guess we're both screwed up.

I guess we are.

Second year driving in a shop,

we came across this 15-year-old kid at Chesterfield Square.

Head smashed, cheekbones gone,

face just... unrecognizable.

-Stomped. -Gang war?

Initiation.

-His own gang? -Yeah.

After that, I transferred to Gang Unit.

Swore if I could bust up shit like that, that's what I'd do 100%.

Well, either way. I'm glad you accepted this task force, man.

Yeah.

-What we're doing... -Hmm.

...feels important.

I agree.

You know, there's never been a Black deputy director of the FBI. Hmm?

Oh, yeah?

I'm gonna be the first.

Good man.

More conspicuous than I'd prefer.

Let's just snatch and grab this motherfucker

-and get the hell out of here. -Yeah.

Looks like no one's home.

Last time we knocked on his door,

he tried to Rambo us with a board full of nails.

Shawn Gallagher.

This is Special Agent Keyonte Bell with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

We're gonna need you to step outside now.

All right. Y'all wanna rock, paper, scissors?

-See who takes that first step? -I'll do it.

No sense in all four of us getting our nuts blown off.

Or... You know what I mean.

-Why you? -Don't discourage him.

Yeah. Just smile and say thank you.

Gallagher?

You ambush me, I swear to God you'll regret it.

Looks like we might've missed him.

Oh, shit.

Shit!

Stay with him.

-I'll hit the highway, try to cut 'em off. -Copy. On him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Shit.

Oh, shit.

Whoo!

Oh, my God.

Oh, shit.

Oh.

Fuck.

Bell, Finau. We gotta stop this guy.

Hold on.

-Get away from me! -Come here.

He's out of his fucking mind.

Come on, man. We just getting started.

He just kept coming at me.

-Hands behind your back. Now. Shut up. -He's out of his fucking mind.

Well, that got a little salty.

You guys all right?

-Yeah. -He's right.

You're out of your fucking mind.

How's it going, Shawn?

I ain't saying shit to you feds.

-He ask for a lawyer? -No. Not yet.

Look, I know my rights. One of them is to remain silent.

So, fuck you.

And fuck you too.

Hmm.

Yeah, do you also know about felony reckless evading?

'Cause that's what it looked like to me.

-He was gonna shoot me. -Well, that's a good point.

That's assault on a federal officer. That's also a felony.

I'm a sovereign citizen, so your felonies, they don't mean shit.

Hmm.

Turn this off.

You know, you're so far up your own ass,

you don't even hear what we're trying to tell you.

We're on your side.

I'm serious.

You think we like where this state is headed?

No. It's a hellhole.

This government, these politicians, they don't give a flip about you or me

or what makes America actually function.

That's right. You know, the southern border is overrun with criminals,

and the swamp isn't doing a damn thing to stop it.

But people in sanctuary cities

who've never been within a hundred miles of Mexico,

they can't be bothered to get us the funds that we need.

This is what I've been saying.

Yeah. I know.

And trust me, there are a lot more of us in law enforcement than there are of them.

We're taking matters into our own hands.

-Good. -Yeah. That's what this is about.

We would've told you all that, but instead you took off running like a maniac.

We had to bring you in, man. 'Cause you ran.

Well, I saw a bunch of feds busting down on me,

I thought it was TEOTHWAWKI.

-Tee-ought what? -The end of the world as we know it.

-That's right. -Yeah, yeah. No.

But, see, because we had some actual feds with us,

we had to, uh, sell that arrest.

You're gonna be out of here as soon as those assholes turn their heads.

So, how do we help you?

We know you got something planned.

With Timur.

-Who? -Timur Novikov.

Who you grew up with? The carjacking?

I don't know no Timur Novikov.

Yeah, you do. The Belarusians.

-The who? -Okay, look.

You want to keep it inside, that's fine.

That's cool with me but I'm just trying to tell you, we can be your inside help.

I can be your get-out-of-jail-free card.

Nobody wants to give it to these big cities like I do.

I'm down for that.

Straight up, I don't know no Belarusian.

Well, they know you. Volchek and Timur Novikov.

-Mikhail Durko. -Mm-hmm.

-Know me? -Oh, yeah.

But we can't help you if you don't get us into that inside circle.

-You know what I mean? -What are you guys talking about?

Circles, Belarusians...

I wanna kick some feds in the throat just as much as you do,

but I ain't got a clue what you're sayin'.

Hmm.

I don't know, boss. I don't think he's lying.

He's not smart enough to pull that off.

Let me take a run at him.

Yeah. Have at it.

Oh, I see.

It's like the car salesman goes in the back to get the manager.

-And the manager comes to... -Shut up.

You thought you had friends?

You have no friends.

All you have staring you in the face is a long life in a very dark place.

Felon in possession of a weapon,

attempted murder of a federal officer,

probation violation.

And the list goes on.

You're looking at at least ten years behind bars

unless you tell me what they want.

I'm telling you, I don't know them.

Bullshit!

-That's your name. -So?

-You're a part of their plan. -No.

And if you don't tell me what it is,

I'm gonna bury you in the desert you just tried to run across.

What?

You tried to kill four federal agents. Don't make it worse on yourself.

-I don't know what you're talking a... -Tell me!

-I don't know. -Durko! Volchek!

I don't know them!

Are there two Gallaghers? Did we get the wrong one?

If it's not him, we don't have any other connections.

Is he a patsy? He's working for them and doesn't know it?

Are you sure you got the right name?

What?

In the dance hall. Are you sure that Gallagher was the name that you saw?

Yeah, I know what I saw.

You said yourself you didn't get a good look, so it might not be.

We can't be working off a guess.

That. That's the name I saw. All right?

Fucking Gallagher. Gallagher! Right there.

Everybody calm down.

Look, all I know is what I saw in the interview room,

and we don't have the right Gallagher.

Which means there's another Gallagher connection out there.

We just haven't found it yet.

But we will.

'Cause we dig.

And we dig, and we dig, and if we don't strike gold, we keep digging.

That's what we do. We stay on it.

Okay?

-Okay? -Okay.

-Yeah. -Yeah.

All right. Let's keep digging.

You all right?

No. Not really.

I mean, we're risking our necks out there.

Drew is dead.

And here we are, just chasing our fucking tails.

Not one inch closer to Volchek, and I just... I don't...

I don't know, man.

Okay. How did you...

How did I, a DEA agent, acquire prescription medication?

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Get your head better.

'Cause out in the desert, you were acting like you had a death wish.

And I need you.

Sir?

I still think the name Gallagher is our best clue.

Yes, sir.

We need to expand our search. Are we limiting ourselves to California?

Could Volchek be planning to hit somewhere else?

I do think transport of radioactive material would be limited.

I mean, moving it intrastate would be high-risk.

Is Gallagher the name of a city? A building? A town hall? A public center?

Yeah. On it.

Special Agent Bell.

Come up with your own leads

before criticizing the work of others on this team.

Are we clear?

Yes, sir.

Andrej. Danill. Radoslav. Vadim.

As you know,

I planned to pick up the Consul General of Belarus.

And show him that he is not untouchable.

The best way to target a victim

is to hit him during his normal everyday routine.

There is regularity in a routine.

But also...

there is death in it.

I watched Astapov, yesterday.

He did everything as he normally does.

Regularity.

Routine.

But he deviated from one usual task.

I was wondering how Astapov knew exactly where I was.

He found me in a parking garage following a meeting.

That was no regular routine of mine.

The only way he could know where I was on that day

was if someone in this room

betrayed me.

So... I told each of you where I was going to snatch up Astapov.

To you...

I said we would pick him up at the park.

To you, outside the Consulate.

To you, the restaurant.

And to you...

I told...

the bakery.

The only place where he deviated from his routine.

The only place

where he decided not to go.

This proves nothing.

-Hand me your phone. -No.

Please.

I have no tolerance for disloyalty.

Find a place for Danill where no one will find him.

Your delivery has arrived.

Open the doors.

You wouldn't abuse the new medication I gave you.

It's nothing like that. I'll be fine.

The name Gallagher's been a bust.

We need to stop chasing our tails and find a new direction.

There was a stolen Border Patrol vehicle. Got dumped after the port shoot-out.

Yeah. It's in the way back. Wasn't a Border Patrol vehicle though.

I know you have ambition like your father.

The Bureau could use good agents, and I see in you a very bright future.

My nephew Danill he has gone missing.

Can you tell me where he is?