All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S05E06.HDTV.x264-SVA

...101.2 Seven Valleys Radio.

And pushing Janet Jackson
off her four-week reign

at the top of the charts,

here's Roxette with their new single...

At the Berlin Wall
at the Brandenburg Gate,

I'm Tom Brokaw.

Brandenburg Gate, of course,
is in East Berlin,

and the sound that y hear and
what you're seeing tonight...

not hammers and sickles,
but hammers and chisels

as young people take down
this wall bit by bit.

Earlier this evening,
the Communist Central Committee

in East Berlin...

End of an era, huh?

"Era." We need a five-letter
word that ends in "H."

Tonight, citizens from both Germanys...

- Uh... "epoch."
- ...are singing and dancing

- Reunited right on top...
- Hey, girls still asleep?

Karen picked them up already.

On the east side of the Berlin Wall,

something new tonight.

Soldiers dismantling it,
not guarding it with rifles.

I, uh... I got to get to work.

Sweetheart, it's still early.

Early is on time,

on time is late,

and late is unacceptable.

No. Please.

Who sent you? We can talk.

We... We can... We can talk!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Ooh, can I play?

Uh! You're in my line of sight.

Oh, there's a hole under the lighthouse.

I'm playing the carom.

Ah.

That's it.

Dembe and I have scheduled a tournament.

It's been in the works for some time,

but we couldn't quite
settle on a format.

I finally unearthed the Peoria System

with a double-par limit,
and here we are.

The tournament is this week.

And I have every intention of winning.

Oh! And here I thought
all old, rich, white men

were good at golf.

Maybe it's my putter.

Mitchell Dunning of Dupont Circle

is about to be assassinated.

I'm sorry... Mitchell who?

Dunning.

He found me through an associate of mine

and is looking to disappear.

My problem is that
I don't have the resources

to help him at present.

Yours is that Mr. Dunning believes

the hit was contracted
through the Travel Agency.

A travel agency?

Not a travel agency, Elizabeth.

The Travel Agency...

a murder-for-hire ring

that lived in the shadows
for nearly 30 years.

Their assassins carried out
a variety of contract hits

until they mysteriously
closed their doors 12 years ago,

dashing any hope that
law enforcement might one day

solve the rash of killings
the Agency left in their wake.

So if this Dunning guy is right
and they are after him...

Innocents and not-so-innocents
have targets on their backs,

beginning with Mitchell Dunning.

The Travel Agency was a
consortium of anonymous killers

responsible for a variety
of unsolved murders...

the assassination of
a civil-rights activist in 1983,

the poisoning of an
anti-Glasnost Soviet businessman

in '87.

What do we know about the man

who Reddington says is the next target?

Mitchell David Dunning.

Lives in Dupont Circle
and imports high-end furniture.

Offices in Paris, London, and New York.

Keen, Navabi, find him and pull
him into protective custody.

I want to know who wants him dead

and why he thinks the Travel Agency

was contracted to do the job.

Agent Ressler.

A word?

There's a personal matter
that I need to attend to.

Is everything all right?

Honestly, I'm not sure.

But I need you to oversee things
here until it's taken care of.

- I'm sorry. Unavoidable.
- Of course.

- Yeah?
- I'm looking for Isaiah.

- Who?
- Isaiah Hill.

Never heard of him.

You gonna open this damn door,
or are we gonna have a problem?

Hello?

Hey! I'm gonna call the cops!

Special Agent Harold Cooper. FBI.

I'm not here
on official business... yet.

O-Okay, look,
I met him a couple days ago.

I said I needed a place to crash.

He tossed me his keys.
I haven't seen him since.

Where'd he go?

We still unofficial?

Only if you give me a straight answer.

Isaiah Hill... where is he?

- You packed the laptop, right?
- I told you... yes.

Along with the phone and the chargers.

What'd your sister say? Cabin's empty.

Garage code is the address backwards.

Here... you finish the bags.
I'm gonna set the alarm.

Mitchell Dunning?
FBI... agents Navabi and Keen.

FBI? I don't... What's going on?

We believe there may be
a threat to your life.

- We need you to come with us.
- What threat?

There can't... You must have me
confused with someone else.

Are you going somewhere?
Upstate for the weekend.

It's Wednesday.

Look, officers,
I appreciate your concern,

but clearly, you've got the wrong guy.

There's no threat.
I'm a salesman. I import...

I'm sorry to be asking you
these questions now,

but if we're gonna find
whoever did this,

we need to know everything you know.

Everything was fine, and then suddenly,

he was rushing us out of the house,

and then you show up, and...

I can't believe this.

Liz, you have to see this.

I found it in the car.

Do you know this man, Mrs. Dunning?

No.

Why? Who is he?

Are you following me now?

Mr. Kaplan gave you a suitcase.

In it was a skeleton
she never should have unearthed

and whose identity must remain secret.

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

I understand the temptation...

acting on a fine woman's dying wish...

But your quest

has cost Nik Korpal his life,

and persisting will put whomever
you involve in harm's way.

I prefer no one gets hurt.

Secrets put people in harm's way.

Keeping them in the dark...
a talent you and I share.

Or shared. I'm out of that business.

And if I have a quest,
it's to shine a light

on the darkness you create...

to help Liz find her way out
of the enormous shadow you cast.

You asked Nik to identify the bones,

and he was killed for his trouble

by someone who knows their identity

and, therefore, their value.

That killer is likely searching
for a way to contact me

since, knowing their value,

he knows they are most valuable to me.

I will allow myself to be found,
recover the suitcase,

eliminate the man for his troubles,

and rebury the body in a place

where it will be lost
to the sands of time,

as originally intended.

Whatever secret
you're hiding from Liz...

it'll come out.

Family secrets always do.

What's in the envelope?

What envelope?

You will stop looking for Pete McGee.

You are to act as if
Pete McGee never existed.

- Say it.
- Is he doing this? Did he send you?

Say it, Lena.

Pete McGee doesn't exist.

Keep it that way.

Or I'll be back.

I don't understand.

You think this man who was killed

was looking into my father's murder?

Did they know each other?

We were hoping that you might
be able to answer that.

Mitchell Dunning...

I don't think I've ever seen him.

Were you and your father close?

We were.

After Mom passed, I used to
come out here every week,

help out around the house.

Did he ever come to visit you?

In the city? God, no.

I don't think Dad ever left the state

after he closed the Agency.

I'm sorry... the Agency?

The Seawall Travel Agency.

Dad owned it for years.

Landry, do you know

if your father happened to keep
any of his old work records?

Knobbs traveled the world
with his family.

And orchestrated hits.

Check this out.

The civil-rights activist...

the Soviet businessman.

Knobbs and his wife, from vacation.

Look at the man in the background.

It's Mitchell Dunning.

Our two victims with nothing in common

owned a murder business.

That means the people
in the Travel Agency

aren't killing people...
they're being killed.

The name and address
of the miscreant you're looking for.

How reliable are your sources?

I understand you've placed Donald

in charge of the task force.

I'm looking for the son
of a good friend.

A young man whose father
was killed last year

and who drowned
his understandable sorrow

in drugs and alcohol.

Mother took him to counselors.

With Char and I,
she organized an intervention.

And we'll do it all again...
as often as it takes.

But we can't do any of it
until we know where he is.

My only lead is this dealer... Castro.

I don't want to go busting into a place

on unofficial business

unless I know it's the right one.

So are your sources reliable?

Yes.

You're going to need backup.

To check some punk?

Sounds like a delightful way
to spend an afternoon.

We can play "Celebrity" on the way.

I appreciate the name. And the offer.

I must warn you...
I know all the absurdists.

I kill with Camus.

Camus is not a celebrity.

He is to me.

Thank you for this.

But I'll take it from here.

FBI.

I'm looking...

Castro... where is he?

I told you I didn't need help.

We couldn't resist.

...101.2 Seven Valleys Radio.

And pu...

Earlier this evening,
the Communist Central Committee

- in East Berlin...
- End of an era, huh?

"Era."

We need a five-letter word
that ends in "H."

Yeah... "epoch."

Are the girls asleep?

Karen picked them up already.

Soldiers dismantling it,

not guarding it with rifles.

I, uh... I got to get to work.

Sweetheart, it's still early.

Early is on time,

on time is late,

and late is unacceptable.

The Seawall Travel Agency,

based out of Allentown, Pennsylvania,

was a storefront
used by Knobbs and Dunning

to facilitate
their murder-for-hire business.

So Knobbs and Dunning
are the two principals.

Yeah, who hid their association

behind a ton of financial loopholes.

But the dossiers we found

account for dozens of unsolved murders.

- They must've had help.
- Yep.

And according to some of
the other documents you seized,

they had a large support staff
who were doing far more

than booking
eight-day cruises to Acapulco.

What do you mean "had"?

So, evidently, Seawall shell companies

were also secretly paying
account executives,

private investigators,
weapons-procurement techs,

and a variety of what I can
only assume were handlers.

All of whom are dead.

Every employee of a murder-for-hire
company murdered.

Except for one.

Mr. Argon Wright,

a shipping agent out of Baltimore.

All right, well, let's bring him
in while he's still breathing.

Navabi, let's go.

Fentanyl is like snake venom.

100 times more powerful than morphine.

A lethal dose of heroin
is about 30 milligrams?

3 milligrams of fentanyl

is enough to kill an average-size male.

In every conceivable way,

I'd say you're well below average.

I don't even know who you are, old man.

But you're a cop, man. You gonna
stand there and let him shoot me up?

We're looking for Isaiah Hill.

We think you know where he is.

Tell us... or you overdose.

If you argue, you overdose.

If the next syllable
out your sorry-ass mouth

doesn't point us
in the direction of Isaiah Hill,

you overdose.

Am I clear?

Good.

'Cause right now, I'm an off-duty cop.

And as an off-duty cop,
I'll do whatever it takes

to find that young man.

Anything to say?

No? Nothing?

Perhaps half a milligram will be enough

to loosen your tongue.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

W-W-Whoa! Hold on! Hold on! hold-on!

I-I didn't sell him drugs.

All right, he...

he bought a gun.

A gun?

That's not a location.

Maybe another milligram
will jog your memory.

Look, my... my guy delivered it
to him in Ivy City.

Brick building
on the corner of 16 and Oak.

Apartment 3.

You just missed the ride of a lifetime.

Lena? It's me... Tom.

Come in.

All right, so, I ran a search
on Pete at the courthouse.

Turns out he pled guilty
to mail fraud. Why?

Because he sold thousands
of patient medical records

to insurance companies
so they could deny coverage,

lost his license,
and would've spent 12 years

in prison if he didn't flip on the...

What are you doing? You going somewhere?

You should go.

Did you hear what I said?
Pete is a bad guy.

I don't want to talk about Pete.

You said you were gonna
help me find him.

- You should really go.
- Did he get to you?

- Was Pete here?
- I don't wantto talk about it.

And I'm sorry
that your friend got killed

and that you lost
something important to you,

but I can't help you.

I went to the D.C. clerk's office.

There was no record that
Pete McGee was ever married.

What?

Five minutes.

Just to show you what I found.

Argon Wright?
Agents Ressler, Navabi... FBI.

FBI? What's going on?

We have reason to believe
you may be in danger.

Why would I be in danger?
What do you mean? From who?

- We know about Knobbs and Dunning.
- Knobbs and Dunning?

I don't... Who are Knobbs and Dunning?

All right, drop the act.
We know about your...

Down! Down!

Get down! Gun!

Move! Get out of the way!

Move! Out of the way!

Mr. C?!

We need names. Asset names...

Everything was compartmentalized.

We never saw each other.

I didn't even know the names
of the operators I handled.

- Think a little harder.
- Hey look, lady, I don't know.

It's...

That gunman... the guy in the car.

- Yeah, the Oldsmobile.
- I used to run an asset

who drove a car
just like that... '86 Olds.

I mean, this was nearly 30 years ago.

- What was his name?
- I told you... we didn't use names.

All I know... we called him No. 5.

You may not have known his name,

but you had to have a protocol.

The Agency would give me the target.

Once they sent the dossier,
I'd page No. 5 a signal... 342.

3-4-2?

It's a reference to a post-office box...

in Seven Valleys.

It's where he'd pick up his assignments.

342?

Do you have a record of it?

Lucky for you, I don't need one.

Why is that?

Because Mr. Dawson has had that box

since before I worked here.

- Mr. Dawson?
- Calvin.

Hardly comes in, though.
Not sure why he keeps it.

Most of his mail
is delivered to the home.

- So his house is here in town?
- Not a house.

He lives at the convalescent
home up on Elm... Briar Oak.

The message was delivered.

Looks like the target is standing down.

You could've killed us.

It's a miracle we weren't hurt.

Are you even listening?

Why are you here? And with a gun.

Whoever you thought
you were shooting at,

if you tell us who they are,
we can help you.

- Who are you?
- What are you doing with a gun?

- Protecting myself.
- From who?

Line forms to the left.

Perhaps you could be
a tad more specific.

How about cops? Like you.

- He's not a cop.
- Cops who beat.

Cops who kill. He's not a cop.

Then who is he? A criminal.

Isaiah, please...
who were you shooting at?

I needed to buy something,

and my regular guy wasn't holding.

"Something." Fentanyl?

I heard about this guy... Zeke Wilson.

He owns a club... 24/7 action.

If you can get in,
it's like a candy store.

I knew I couldn't get in the front,

so I tried the back.

Zeke was there in the alley,
arguing with a guy.

Zeke... he shot him.

So you're a witness
he's trying to get rid of.

You should've told me, son.

I am not your son.

No, you're not.

But I am your friend,
and I'm here to help.

Will you let me?

I told my boss
I forgot something up here.

I'm in Pete's office.
I'm putting you on speaker.

And you know his passwords?

I thought I did.

Then again, I thought he was married.

Okay, anything Pete found out
about the bones I gave him,

what he knows, or where he is,
it won't be labeled

or easy to find, so you got to
upload everything.

Who tells someone they're
married when they're not?

Isn't it usually the other way around?

Pete's a con artist. He conned us both.

He killed my friend, and now
he's sent someone to frame you.

I got in. It's uploading.

I'm sorry... where is Mr. Dawson?

We were told he lived here.

He does.

But he's with Eleanor now... his wife.

She stops by occasionally and
takes him out for a day or so.

Can you tell us about his condition?

Calvin was injured years ago
in a robbery...

beaten badly and left for dead.

Truthfully, he's lucky
to have survived it at all.

But the brain injury left him
with anterograde amnesia.

And what does that mean?

Calvin can't form new memories.

He can operate in the present,

but what happen 10 hours or 10 days ago,

for him, it's as if it never happened.

But his long-term memory
is still intact?

Yes... everything that happened
prior to the injury.

End of an era, huh?
As far as he's concerned,

the last 30 years didn't happen.

He can do the same puzzle,

read the same book, eat the same meal...

"Epoch." every time, it's brand-new.

What about when he sees
a new car or a flat-screen TV?

Well, visual cues that are in conflict

with his world view...
that's he's living in 1989...

simply don't register.

They go into his mental spam folder.

Where are the girls? They still asleep?

Karen picked them up early today.

We need to speak with Mr. Dawson.

Do you have a contact number
or address for his wife?

Hey, I should get to work.

Isn't it early?

Early is on time,

on time is late, and late...

Hello?

Oh.

Yes, hi.

Oh. Oh.

Yes, I understand.

Thank you.

Who was that? What's wrong?

Daycare.

Mia was on the playground
and took a fall.

They're taking her to the hospital.

Is she okay? We... We should go.

Let me get my purse.

FBI!

My side is clear!

Move!

Still warm.

Clear!

Samar?

"Morning radio," November 9, 1989.

Dunning.

Knobbs.

Wright.

All of them.

Eleanor, what's going on?

I told you... there's been...

an incident.

The wife... he lied to her.

Led her to believe he worked
at an actual travel agency,

had a normal life.

She had no idea.

I was just trying to get by,
trying to take care of you.

After the accident, somehow, somewhere,

there was a slip-up,
and she picked up on it.

I was at the bank, trying to figure out

how to keep up with the medical bills...

your medical bills...
when the bank manager asked me

why I hadn't dipped into
your personal account.

What account?
Eleanor, I don't understand.

That's exactly what I said.

She stumbled onto his finances.

I was able to connect the dots
by following the money.

Your travels were like a map.

A congressman from Utah murdered

while he was in Salt Lake.

A South African police general
gunned down

while he was in Cape Town.

You can't imagine
how angry and afraid I was

to find out that the man that I loved,

the father of my children,

was a monster.

There's no closure in confronting a man

who doesn't even know what day it is,

so she just kept digging.

Every name, every number.

It took me four years
to get to the Travel Agency,

and another six
to figure out who worked there.

Finally, she figured out
his protocols...

The codes, the systems.

...how the long-defunct Travel Agency

communicated with their assets.

The post box in Seven Valleys
was the final piece.

I figured out how it worked.

The pages, the dossiers.

And she used those same protocols

to run her husband.

Took advantage of his amnesia,

making him believe it was still 1989,

using him as her own contract killer

to take out those in the Travel Agency.

All the while, he had no idea.

Wh... wh... wh... whatever...

whatever you think happened,
whatever you think I've done...

Oh, I know exactly what you did.

But you don't.
Because you forget everything.

What a blessing that must be.

Isaiah's father was pulled over
for having expired plates.

He got out of the car
to see for himself.

Officer told him
to get back in the vehicle.

But he'd paid for the tags.

He knew there had to be some mistake.

He was unarmed.

He just wanted to see for himself.

Officer gave him a second warning.

When he reached to get his wallet,

the officer shot him.

Six times.

Isaiah watched the man
who murdered his father

tried and acquitted on all accounts.

For him... for so many like him...

it's the gospel truth that
if you're black in this country

and you say the wrong word,
you could be killed.

Ask the wrong question,
look the wrong way,

you can be killed.

Almost every cop I've served
with, black or white,

I'd be proud to call my brother.

It tears me up
knowing what so many people

in my community think of them...

just like it tears me up
knowing that the cops

who kill my other brothers

will almost never be held responsible.

Harold, your justice system
protects those cops

as it will protect you,

no matter what you do to Zeke Wilson.

Zeke Wilson... is a bloodsucking scum

who preys on people like Isaiah.

Yes.

And if you choose
to hold him responsible

for what happened to Isaiah's father

or for all the people of color
who are killed

for saying the wrong thing
or looking the wrong way,

you can do that.

You may be black, Harold,
but you carry a badge,

and like it or not,
that means you're a made man.

Your justice system will protect you,

just like it protected the cop
who killed Isaiah's father.

Is that your observation or your advice?

My observation is
that you came to this party

with an unregistered handgun.

My advice would be... as Isaiah's father

got six bullets,
I'd give Zeke Wilson 12,

order a rib eye,
raise a glass of Château Latour,

and toast to a job well done.

Sounds like a plan.

Yes... if I were going in there.

But I'm not.

You're taking it from here, Harold.

And while your system
won't hold you to account

for whatever you choose to do,
your conscience will.

Though, on the off chance
that I've overestimated

your tendency toward self-restraint,

Dembe will be there to watch your back.

Hold up.

Zeke Wilson.

Don't point. Don't signal.

Just nod.

Guy on the couch? Beard?

Special Agent Harold Cooper, FBI.

"Special Agent."

What makes you special, Agent Cooper?

I'm taking you in on felony charges

of intimidating a witness.

Witness to what?

Murder.

And when he gives his statement,

I'll be charging you with that, as well.

I got no idea what you're talking about.

Isaiah Hill is a friend of mine.

Isaiah Hill?

You sure you want to go down this road?

'Cause accidents happen to snitches
even when their friend's a G.

- Are you threatening him?
- I'm just saying... accidents happen.

Hit by a car, drown in a pool.

You can't arrest someone
for an accident, can you,

Not-So-Special Agent Cooper?

You're right. I'm not so special.

But I want my friend
to have a chance at life,

and I want scum like you
where they belong.

Zeke Wilson.

You're under arrest.

We need a location
on Eleanor Belle Dawson.

Notify state patrol we're looking
for a black '86 Oldsmobile.

We already issued a BOLO,

but tracking these two
is gonna be difficult.

Dawson leads an analog life,
which means no technology

to trace... no cell, no navigation.

What about the pager?

His wife probably used it
to signal Dawson.

There is only one number that's
been calling that pager...

each page coming
on the same day as a killing.

The wife's burner.

Aram, we need you to get
a trace on that burner.

Yeah, all over it.

What are we doing here?
Why are we in a cemetery?

Calvin, sweetheart,

we're here to see the children.

Every day, I tell you Karen
picked up Sam and Mia early.

Karen hasn't picked up
the girls in 30 years.

They're dead, Calvin.

No.

We were in Miami on what I
thought was a family vacation.

I collapsed at the pool.

My appendix burst.

Do you remember?

When I went into surgery,

you took the girls out of the hospital.

You told me you didn't
want them to be scared.

But what you didn't tell me

was that you had
somewhere to be that afternoon.

A job.

El... Eleanor?

Not my girls.

You took our girls with you
to kill a man.

You left them in the car

and walked inside
the back of a restaurant

to do a job

which should've taken you...
what, two minutes?

But it didn't take you
two minutes, Calvin.

Because the man you went to kill
knew you were coming...

got a jump on you,

left you for dead,
bleeding and beaten in the alley

while our girls
were locked in the car...

too young to know any better.

The medical examiner said

electrolyte abnormalities kicked in

and sparked cardiac arrhythmias

and something he called "skin slippage."

Everyone from Seawall is dead.

Except Wright.

The police got to him.

But everyone else.

It doesn't bring the girls back

or make me feel as good
as I thought it would...

but you did it.

Eleanor Dawson! FBI!

I need you to put that gun down!

They told me you were
at the convalescent home

looking for him.

You know who he is, right?

Yes.

If you put your gun down,
we can talk about it.

I want to talk about it.

I don't know what you people
think is gonna happen.

You don't gain anything by arresting me

or putting me in jail.

I'm not a danger to society, like he is!

My name is Elizabeth.

I'm a mother, like you.

I want to understand.

You're a mother?

Yes.

Oh, good.

Then you'll understand this.

That's it.

That's my statement about what I saw.

What comes next?

The U.S. attorney

will review what you said,

decide whether to file charges.

And if it goes to court,
you'll be called to testify.

In court? Against Wilson?

Where everyone can see?

Nothing will happen if you do.

- You have my word on that.
- The word of a cop?

A cop who knows
what you're going through.

My father marched for Dr. King.

He was attacked by police dogs
in Birmingham,

was beaten on Bloody Sunday.

For his troubles, the Bureau
opened up a secret file on him,

called him a radical,
enemy of the state.

He was my hero,

and the organization
I've devoted my life to

did everything in its power
to destroy him.

But that's why
I devoted my life to it...

to make that the Bureau
never did to another black man

what it did to my old man.

And mine.

Come on. I'll take you home.

I need some help, Mr. Cooper.

I'm gonna try.

But I think I need some help.

Yeah.

Let's get you home, Isaiah.

Did you find what you were looking for?

Nope. But I did find this.

"Congratulations, Lena Mercer.

You have qualified
to receive a UVA Visa card."

I don't understand.

You have Pete's passwords. He has yours.

And he's using them to open
new credit cards in your name.

The reason we can't find Pete is
he's not using his accounts.

He's using yours.

And that's how we're gonna find him.

The warning didn't take.

Yes, sir.
I'll make sure of it next time.

I feel like you're a natural golfer,

and I'm... just not.

You're naturally good at many things.

Like what?

Like what?

You're good company.

Well, that doesn't count!

I'll think of something.

You know what? Never mind.

Slow down!

Liz, why are we running?

I don't know why
we just flew across town.

Will you?

What?

I know it's super spur-of-the-moment,

and this is not very romantic.

I mean, we're under fluorescent lights.

These pens are attached
to the table, for God's sake,

but...

Look.

With everything I see in a day,

I just feel so lucky to have you.

And if we don't do this now...

Hey.

Yes.

That's it. I now pronounce you
husband and wife.