Original subtitles

Any leads on who killed Ellen?

No, not who killed her.

Sam? Not even a last name.

But there's this.

An e-mail account not linked to anything else

the marshals found at Ellen's apartment.

When I run one of Mozzie's tracking programs,

I get this.

Somebody's still checking it, regularly,

at Internet cafes around D.C.

You think it's Sam.

Ellen told me to trust him,

that he's my best chance for answers.

But if it is Sam...

What do I say?

You tell him you want to meet on neutral ground.

"We'll meet on your terms."

No, you can't let Sam control the meet.

Neal! Neal!

Let me in!

Neal!

Hey.

Someone's trying to kill me.

What?! Why am I not surprised?

No time for sarcasm, Suit.

Calm down, okay? You're all right now.

I almost ate a bullet. I've been on that ride before.

It shakes you up. I can't calm down.

Mozzie, breathe.

Take a seat...

And tell us what happened.

Okay.

It all started when June and I paid our weekly visit

to the market of lost treasures.

Hester's Storage sells the best abandoned units.

Okay, we got a 5'x10' here. Get a good look.

At a storage auction,

you only have a few moments to gauge the unit's worth.

People see "fragile," and they think "valuable."

But an arrow pointing in the wrong direction

reeks of foreclosure trash.

Ooh, look at that toy.

That is an antique Lionel Crane.

John-John had one down at the Cape.

Okay, time's up.

We're gonna start the auction.

Give me $25.

Now, $25 right here. Looking for $50.

$50. I got $50 right here. Looking for $100.

$200, $300, $400, $500. That's $600 right here.

Looking for $700.

$700 going once. $700 going twice.

It's sold, right here at $700 to the gentleman.

You used June as a plant

to up the price of worthless units.

Well, it helps drain their resources

so I'm flush when a valuable unit comes up.

And June was okay with that?

Most likely, it was her idea.

All right. What happened?

June was crushing it,

but I still hadn't seen a desirable unit, until...

Corner unit. Get a look.

Okay. Let's start the bidding.

We're gonna start the bidding at $25.

- Anybody give me $25 right here, looking at $50. - $25.

$50, anybody? $50 right here. Looking at $75.

$100! $100 right here. $200. $300, looking for $400.

$400! $400, looking for $500. $600, looking for $700.

$800! Looking at $800. $850, for $900.

$900.

$975?

$925? $900 going once.

What's the matter -- Low on funds? $900 going twice.

Till next week, Mini-Me.

Sold, right here at $900 to Mr. Dapper.

Let's take a look at the next unit. Follow me.

Oh, these old cameras are great.

They don't have the prism that flips the image --

a natural gravity defier, if you will.

Oh, Moz.

Of all the units... Why this one?

It's a cache of chaos.

Pinhole cameras.

Maybe find some daguerreotypes,

some forgotten Vivian Maier photographs.

Whoever this guy is, he was definitely onto something.

Or on something.

I'll leave this to you.

Thanks, June.

I'd stumbled onto something interesting.

The flotsam of an unusual mind? Eh, perhaps.

But whoever this, uh, C.H. is,

he'd certainly given me my money's worth.

Of the two keys I found -- one modern, one antique --

the modern key opened the obvious door.

Anyone home?

You walked into the house?

I'd bought it, didn't I?

No. You didn't.

Seriously, Suit? What would you have done in my situation?

I would never be in your situation.

Get to the part about the gun.

Fine.

Naturally, I made myself at home.

You started cleaning?

Well, a layer of dust would do my sinuses no good,

and it led to a fortuitous discovery.

You found yourself a secret passage?

In the library, behind a bookcase!

And it gets even better.

You're a nightmarish Goldilocks.

Minus the golden curls. Keep going.

Well, I spent a few days settling in.

Now, I've lived by myself long enough

to know when I'm not alone.

He wore all black, and -- and he was tall --

like "Ichabod Crane" tall.

Where's the flag, 7-2-3?

He called you 7-2-3?

And he wanted a flag?

I had no clue what he was talking about, either.

Well, that makes all of us.

So I had to think fast.

The flag.

Of course. I was expecting you.

Take me to it now.

I have a set of rules specific to this situation.

Sure.

Establish eye contact... Follow me.

...force him to acknowledge my humanity...

Slowly. No sudden moves.

...then run like hell!

You are dead, 7-2-3!

Taxi!

So, I popped out on the street,

hailed a cab, and came right here.

So, all this is a case of mistaken identity?

Yeah. He thinks I'm someone named 7-2-3.

And that you've got a flag.

No, no. Not just a flag.

A flag he's willing to kill for.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

4x06 - Identity Crisis -

NYPD did a search of Mozzie's new house.

They found an open window,

empty liquor bottles, and a slept-in bed.

How about the secret passage behind the bookshelf?

That, they also found, along with a broken vase.

So Mozzie's not entirely crazy.

They're calling it a tall tale of an illegal squatter, which --

Isn't entirely untrue.

Except for the "tall" part.

What do you have, Jones? Dead-end city.

Our storage unit is registered to a P.O. box

owned by someone whose signature is totally unreadable.

And whoever they are,

they stopped paying cash two months ago,

so the facility sent the required late notices

and auctioned it off to your guy, Mozzie.

What about the house?

Well, it's owned outright by a Robert Townsend, since 1781.

Yeah, he's real dead.

Well, a family trust was set up

early last century to maintain it.

The last executor died years ago,

but the trust keeps up the payments.

We could get more on the trust

with a federal grand jury subpoena.

This isn't a federal crime,

and you're fresh out of the bureau doghouse.

All right.

Anything on the initials "C.H."

That Mozzie found on the robe?

Nada. Nothing.

Anything on who or what the name 7-2-3 might be?

Nope. Zilch.

Maybe I can track the family lineage

without using FBI resources.

Guys, I'm sorry, but I have to get

my land-fraud case to the a.U.S.A. by noon.

Neal, could you -- help Diana research the family.

Mind reader.

We found more on Robert Townsend.

He was part of the Culper Spy Ring.

If I recall from history class,

George Washington created the Culper spies

to aid the continental army during the revolutionary war.

Please tell me you're not talking

about those Culper spies. Yes, I am.

They sent intel

from British-occupied New York using codes.

And they used numbers, not names.

Don't tell me. 7-2-3 was Robert Townsend?

You got it.

Why would the gunman call Mozzie

a code name of a dead revolutionary war spy?

This book presents a possible theory.

It caused some controversy

when it was published six months ago.

It claims Culper descendants

have been keeping the spy ring active since the war.

By using their ancestor's numbers?

Yep. Listen to this.

"Culper descendants

"are a secretly sanctioned government organization,

"empowered by blood to keep the United States safe.

"Their name may have faded,

but their loyalty is alive and well."

That's insane.

The Culpers disbanded after the revolutionary war.

Only a conspiracy nut would think that these guys...

Look who we're talking about.

Yeah. He's gonna love this.

He is.

Of course Culper descendants kept the spy ring alive.

How did I miss this?

Because they didn't and you didn't.

It makes perfect sense.

This book was published, exposing them, drawing them out.

It even has their secret communication codes!

Mozzie, this author of this book lost his tenured professorship

because it's filled with B.S.

Read the reviews -- "Rampant speculation."

Speculation?

Our government has endorsed

a cornucopia of questionable programs --

Stargate, MK-Ultra, the space shuttle.

He has a point.

Why are you indulging him?

If the Culpers don't exist today,

then why is someone trying to kill 7-2-3?

And where is 7-2-3?

He's right, Peter.

Whatever you think about this,

we could be dealing with a missing person.

That's...possible.

7-1-1, 2-4-6, 6-6-9, 7-2-3...

What are you doing? It's the journal I found at the storage unit.

I'm reading the code. T-these numbers mean words.

Um, "Washington hand unto 7-2-3

"the country clothier he carried through the ice

unto New Jersey in December."

What?!

Washington gave a flag to the Culpers.

The very flag he carried across the Delaware in 1776.

What do you think of that, Suit?

That flag would be worth a fortune today.

Uh, an authentic symbol

of our burgeoning "freedom" as a country?

On a rough estimate, I would say priceless.

Peter, Mozzie has stumbled across clues

that could lead us to a lost American treasure.

Indeed!

This is a modern day 7-2-3's coded journal.

And he's talking to a 3-5-5 about the flag.

3-5-5?

Oh, the Culpers' female spy.

It looks as if our lady Culper has some letters

containing important information

pertaining to the location of the flag.

We should reach out to her.

How do you make contact with the mysterious ancestor

of a 250-year-old woman?

Well, the way the Culpers originally communicated --

through strategically placed messages in newspapers.

So, this is what a secret spy message looks like.

According to the journal Mozzie found,

7-2-3 requested this lady Culper

check this paper every morning for a code.

So Mozzie placed his own ad.

Well, that's only a little bit crazy.

What does it mean?

Well, during the war,

the Culpers had to travel the Long Island sound

from British to American territory.

Sounds dangerous. It was.

So, what they did is they hid codes

on a clothesline by the shore to communicate.

Gives new meaning to "dirty laundry."

So, Mozzie's using the old clothesline code.

That's kind of cute. No, don't encourage.

But undergarments symbolize the person

you want to contact.

And then the handkerchiefs

were where they were supposed to be.

So the petticoat is the female spy Mozzie wants to meet.

Yes, the female spy descendant.

Ah.

Now, he wants to meet at 9:00 A.M.

Where?

Well, back in the day, four handkerchiefs

referred to an old pub on 16th and 2nd Avenue.

Well, that's Stuyvesant Park now.

Yeah, so we're going to Stuyvesant Park.

Oh.

That's them, about to ruin a perfectly good Saturday.

Well, honey, you get to go on a treasure hunt.

You love treasure hunts.

I'm only going on the off-chance

that the gunman sees this ad and shows up.

Morning, Peter. Neal.

Suit. Havisham.

- Hi. - Hey.

Got everything we need for a day of intrigue.

Mrs. Suit, it's been way too long!

Oh, it has, and I see you've fallen

back into the routine of torturing my husband.

Old habits.

Ah, the Suit will see it my way.

"Time makes more converts than reason" --

Thomas Paine's "Common Sense."

You're the last person

who should be quoting "Common Sense."

Mozzie, do you really think you're gonna swap intel

with a spy in the East Village?

Indeed.

You know, I once entertained the idea

that my birth parents were spies.

There's no chance you'll ignore that, right?

No. Right.

Have fun.

No one's recognized me yet.

Keep your eye out for Ichabod Crane.

I'm completely exposed out here.

Neal, I'm using an outdated CIA spy kit

that, according to Mozzie,

he once hoped belonged to his parents.

Tell me why you're encouraging this

before I get sent back to evidence.

I don't think you want to know.

You'll get all tense, and you'll make that grimace, and...

There. It's like I'm getting a massage.

Talk.

Now I'm tense.

Oh.

Oh, that does help.

Talk.

Okay. You know Mozzie is an orphan.

Yeah.

Well, an orphan's gonna wonder about his parents.

So, he imagined they were spies.

Mozzie's first conspiracy theory and his coping mechanism.

Occasionally, something happens

that triggers Mozzie to revisit his childhood.

He falls into a spy cycle?

Do not mention Valerie Plame in his presence.

So, if this female Culper descendant actually shows up,

he might spiral back to his childhood delusions?

Yeah.

When Ellen told me my dad was corrupt --

You ran from the truth.

Yeah, and became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Mozzie tells himself these stories

to maintain his faith in the world.

But not in the government.

His faith, however limited, is all that separates

a man with a conscience from a man without one.

I knew I was right.

So much for a delusion.

Agent 7-2-3?

Agent 3-5-5.

No names. Perfect.

Actual spies don't greet each other by code.

They do in airport novels.

I was busy working on the flag.

Oh. Good.

I thought that stupid Culper descendant book

might've caused you to go dark.

You know the press actually contacted me to verify it?

It's frustrating that our existence came into question.

As if there's even a question.

Mm.

So, do you have the letters?

I do. I'm still concerned about their preservation.

Preservation? O-of course.

I can assure you they will be...preserved.

I know I keep harping on it. It's the librarian in me.

Oh.

Commendable profession, 3-5-5.

Call me Tempest.

No need to pretend about the Culper code with me.

That's a mark against Mozzie's theory.

What's your name? Oh, he'll find a way to ignore it.

You can just call me 7-2-3.

I take the Culper code very seriously.

I love how invested you are in our ancestry.

Family history is very important.

Yes, it's, uh, vital to know who we come from.

I take it you found the infirmary?

The infirmary? Of course, I found the infirmary.

The -- the infirmary.

Yes, o-of course.

The flag, the letters, the infirmary --

a-are they making it up as they go along?

The infirmary. Why do I know that?

Where is it?

Uh, all in good time.

We made a deal -- the letters for the infirmary.

The storage unit used to be an infirmary.

I wonder why that's so important.

Well, hopefully, we'll find out.

If you won't hold up your end,

I'll be going.

Uh, t-the infirmary is downtown.

I-it's now a facility known as Hester's Storage.

These letters have been in my family for generations.

Please be careful when you test them.

This has been a pleasure, 3-5-5.

Recognize someone?

Yeah.

All right. Intercept Mozzie. Get him out of here.

I'm gonna have a chat with our friend.

FBI! Put down your weapon!

I-I-I've been mugged twice.

I'd like to see a badge.

Put your gun on the ground now.

All right.

How about the badge?

All right. My apologies.

I reached for my wallet, you reached for the gun.

My instinct kicked in, all right?

You have a permit for this?

I'd be drawn and quartered if I didn't.

Go ahead.

You match the physical description

of an assault suspect.

I'm gonna need you to come in, answer a few questions.

You were just at Stuyvesant Park on a whim?

No, I read an ad in today's newspaper.

I thought I'd be able to interview

some Culper spy descendants.

Well, why would you want to interview the Culper spies

after you've already written a book about them?

You writing a second book?

Yes. Yes.

Some asinine critics

seem to have missed the vision of my first.

And you aim to prove them wrong?

Once I definitively prove that the Culpers remain active,

I will be lecturing at Harvard with tenure.

What's your connection to the Culpers?

I have none.

The closest I come to the revolution

is my penchant for tea.

You simply want to be the first person

to prove that they still exist?

With psychoanalytic skills like that,

you should be in the profiling department.

Tell you what else I see -- a disgraced egomaniac

who's playing an unorthodox game of "Capture the Flag."

I am looking for the flag. So are a lot of other people.

It is not a crime.

No, but attacking the man known as 7-2-3 in his home is.

And I do hope that you are able to capture

whomever is responsible for that.

I think I have.

Finding that flag, by any means necessary --

that would go a long way to restoring your reputation.

I'm an academic.

Do you really think I would stoop to such measures?

You were pretty quick with that gun.

I was mugged! Y--

Well, it's -- it's there in the report.

Now, if you can't charge me with anything,

I'm going to leave.

What, you can't hold Stringer on anything?

Except he tried to kill me!

We have a circumstantial witness report,

and his gun permit cleared,

despite his itchy trigger finger.

Is Diana still putting leaves on the Townsend family tree?

I'm about to talk to her. The letters reveal anything?

Not yet.

But Mozzie's mixing chemicals right now

to test for something called "a sympathetic stain."

Ah, the invisible ink Washington used

to pass messages to the Culpers.

Of course that would make an appearance.

You really know your Culper history.

I've been catching up.

Washington was quite an innovator.

For a guy who never told a lie,

he certainly stretched the truth a lot.

It is the mark of a great politician.

I'm ready. All right. Mozzie's ready.

I'll let you know if we find anything. All right.

You think Tempest has kids?

Must be hard to raise kids as a spy.

Nearly impossible, I'd imagine.

So, we got everything we need to read between the lines?

You know, there are those who say

that the coining of that phrase

is Washington's greatest achievement.

Here. Light that up.

Okay. Now, be careful.

"The secret is in your eyes."

I think I know what that means.

Find anything?

I started with the family history of Robert Townsend,

the man they think is Mozzie's ancestor. And?

His lineage ends with his son,

and little is known about his family after he died in 1838.

But guess who's the mother of his son.

You got me.

Agent 3-5-5.

The ancestor of our librarian.

That got me thinking.

What if I track her ancestry or other Culper spies?

I might figure out who 7-2-3 is today.

I found a bunch of them nearby.

Who are they? One's a marketing director in Connecticut,

there's a nurse in Spanish Harlem,

and a Rutgers professor.

A professor?

I interviewed a former professor about this --

Oliver Stringer.

No connection. Could be a coincidence.

Unless it's not. Who's your guy?

Uh, Nathan Woodhull.

Well, we won't be interviewing him anytime soon.

He was strangled in his home two months ago.

Is your professor Stringer a suspect?

No, but the guy they arrested

has initials that are particularly interesting.

"Cabot Hawkins."

"C.H." -- The initials on Mozzie's bathrobe.

Look where they're keeping him.

"The secret is in her eyes" made me realize

what these holes you told me about might be for.

The room is a camera obscura!

These used to be windows.

So, you black out most of the light in the room

except for one spot on the glass,

and the light naturally projects.

It's an upside-down image.

The view outside over the woman's eye!

Yeah.

It flips the image like a pinhole camera.

So that's where the flag is?

Well, not necessarily.

I mean, there are dozens of holes here.

Oh, and each hole presents a different location

over her eye.

Modern-day 7-2-3 drilled these holes

to try to figure out which projection is correct.

Wow. He was re-creating the infirmary.

His ancestor would lay on this bed,

looking up at 3-5-5's eye.

The flag could be any one of these.

So, the coordinates to the right hole

are the final key.

If we get those, then we'll find the location of the flag.

Hm.

Hey, Peter.

Can you and Mozzie meet me at my house?

I've got an update on the case.

All right.

I paid a visit to Bellevue today.

Meet psych patient Cabot Hawkins,

otherwise known as agent 7-2-3.

Cops found Cabot Hawkins at a murder scene

of another Culper Spy descendant --

number 7-2-2.

That victim could have been me!

Judge ruled Cabot be taken to an insane asylum,

and his records were sealed.

Were you able to question him?

At first, he wouldn't talk to me.

He said he would only talk to 7-1-1,

but I got to him eventually.

7-1-1? That's George Washington!

How'd you get to him

if he'd only talk to Washington's descendants?

I may have quoted our founding father.

You tricked him into thinking

that Washington was your ancestor?

I gently guided him.

Cabot claims

that he was only there to get the guy's documents,

but when he arrived, the man was already dead.

Hm. Do you believe him?

He also told me that his cat gave him a parasite

that subtly manipulates his personality.

Sounds like paranoia runs in the Townsend blood.

Yeah.

Cabot also said that he alone

tracked down the descendants' clues about the flag.

With no help from anybody?

All by himself?

So there's no Culper network.

I'm sorry, Moz.

Well, theories are meant to be disproved.

You think, uh, Stringer could be the killer?

My gut tells me it's not Cabot.

Then I gave you one bad guy to put on your books.

Good for you.

Hey, where you going?

We still need you to prove Stringer's guilty.

Well, you're good at solving crimes.

I'll just stick to, uh...

finding them.

You sure he's gonna be all right?

This spy thing means more to him than he lets on.

Whatcha got there, Moz?

Oh, research -- about my parents.

This may be a surprise,

but the Culpers weren't just a treasure hunt to me.

No?

Once again, I fell under the spell

that if the Culpers existed as spies --

Then your parents could be spies, too.

Yes.

What are these?

I made them in third grade to impress the other kids

at the orphanage about my parents' story --

secret shadow-puppet show at lights out.

I might need to see that immediately.

No, it's too humiliating.

Billy Chadham never let me hear the end of it.

Well, I'm not Billy Chadham. Show me.

It was Russia, during the cold war.

Alisa the noble had nobly --

remember, I wrote this when I was 8 --

devoted her life to her country.

Meanwhile, across the Bering strait,

Alvin the Great --

I was obsessed with "The Chipmunks" --

was also a servant to his country.

Then, one fateful day, by way of the Berlin crisis,

their paths crossed.

Their forbidden love, fit for Shakespeare,

resulted in the gift of a tiny son.

I was the greatest violation of the cold war.

Ill luck befell them for it.

Their governments, forces more evil than Godzilla --

sought to divide them.

Their son, in mortal danger, gave them no choice.

So they hid him with Jeffries the king,

who loved the child as his own.

And the parents were heroes...

The child thrived...

And one day, they reunited...

And they all lived happily ever after.

It's a really great story.

That's all it is, Neal -- just a story...

An 8-year-old tells himself

to hide the fact that his parents didn't want him.

I'm sorry.

I know how hard it is to lose faith in your family.

I pored over Woodhull's crime-scene photos yesterday

when I finally noticed something.

The tie around his neck -- it was loosened.

So someone was trying to give him air?

Cabot was telling the truth.

He arrived after the murder and tried to help.

Only thing the P.D. did get right

is that they retrieved the victim's hard drive.

Found some very interesting e-mails

he exchanged with Stringer

about the Culper descendants.

Stringer used him for research.

At first, but eventually the victim gets evasive.

Stringer accused him of hunting for the flag on his own.

Yeah, he felt threatened.

He's a sociopath.

He thinks the flag is the key to regaining his respect.

So, Stringer kills the victim

and then goes after Cabot for the flag.

He doesn't know his name or what he looks like,

so he waits at the house until someone finally shows up.

Enter Mozzie.

That's my working theory.

But short of having Stringer confess,

I don't know how I can prove it.

So let's get him to confess.

Stringer believes the Culpers still exist, right?

Let's prove they do.

My vertigo is acting up.

Are you sure you can do this?

He'll be fine. He's happy to help.

We're on, boss.

Stringer must have gotten my note.

I used Culper code to lure him in.

5-6-1, 6-8-2 --

Yeah, enough with the numbers.

Let's get ready for our close-up.

All right. Good luck.

Come in.

I got your note. What is this about?

The boss wants a meeting.

The boss?

Mr. Stringer.

Glad you could join us.

Who are you?

We're old friends.

This is 7-1-1.

George Washington.

I cannot tell a lie.

- George Washington is your ancestor? - Yes.

This could go bad fast.

And what about you?

Whose descendant are you?

Thomas Jefferson's.

I knew it.

The spy ring is still around.

General, I'll leave you the room.

What do you want with me?

You've been accosting my agents looking for the flag.

Let's discuss it like gentlemen.

Your network's secrecy has ruined my reputation.

Why should I talk to you?

Because I can remedy that.

Please. Sit.

The general doesn't like guns.

I hold onto my weapon, or I'm leaving.

Holster it, and you can keep it.

You do know I'd be more of an asset in the room with them?

Neal's enough of a live wire.

I don't need a spark plug in there, too.

This spark plug got him here, didn't he?

Let me start by saying thank you.

You've actually done us a service

by eliminating agent 7-2-2 for us.

I don't know what you mean. Yes, you do.

7-2-2 was a traitor within our network --

fed you information for your book

that revealed our existence.

Well, sadly, he didn't feed me enough.

My book was crucified.

I can't say that upsets me.

I take it he's how you found our headquarters here?

He showed me the correspondence with 7-2-3 about the flag.

I traced his I.P. address and found this place.

And you've been watching it ever since.

Well, I was beginning to worry that 7-2-3 had disappeared on me

until he showed up a couple days ago.

He hadn't disappeared.

He was detained for the murder you committed.

So that's who they got. Karma.

He didn't deny it was his murder.

Well, I hope your gratitude includes a gift.

I want the flag.

We don't have it.

But we'd be willing to join forces in the hunt.

Look, I have the coordinates.

What makes you think I need you? Coordinates?!

Because I have the infirmary.

You should give me the infirmary.

You know this is psychological torture

making me stay in here and watch my dreams die.

Then go home.

Please. Your part's over.

Well, fine. I know when I'm not appreciated.

Well, you should give me the infirmary

considering I am the man who dispensed of your traitor.

Well, since you're the man,

the infirmary is now a storage space on pearl street.

Well, I wish I could say this has been fun.

Good luck finding the flag --

especially without 3-5-5's family letters.

Oh, withholding information. How typical.

What do you want for the letters?

I want to know our traitor suffered.

Well, he fought me for every last gasp of breath.

Anything else?

Is that enough?

It's plenty.

FBI! Put your hands in the air now!

Come with me if you want to live.

What the hell?

What the hell just happened?!

We were wondering the same thing.

He's trying to save the coordinates.

What? What coordinates?

The coordinates that lead to the flag.

If we arrest Stringer, he'll never give them up.

So, where are they going?

The storage unit.

Y-you can lose the gun.

Yeah, I'll lose the gun when I'm convinced

I have all the clues, fed.

I have no idea why that lock is broken.

Open the door. Slowly.

Agent 3-5-5?!

Don't play me with this Culper crap.

You're another fed.

No, she's a descendant of 3-5-5. Look.

She looks just like her.

What are you doing here?

When he told me about the infirmary,

I-I couldn't believe it was real.

I had to see it for myself.

You touch one hair on her head,

and you will not live to find that flag!

The coordinates are 61 centimeters by 99.

You have three minutes to impress me.

Good?

Yeah.

Missed 'em.

They must be on their way to the flag.

If they find it, Mozzie's a dead man.

We don't have the coordinates.

You think Mozzie left a clue?

I know he did. It's just a matter of where.

It's locked.

Oh! I might have a key.

Antique key...

Antique lock.

What's all this about?

Well, the long story short, the coordinates identify a hole

that projects the flag's location onto that woman's eye.

Oh. How'd I miss that?

Now... Hold on a second.

This one's turned around.

It's the revolutionary war monument.

This monument is dedicated to the fallen soldiers

of the revolutionary war.

It was built around this stone.

"416-209" -- "Never forget."

I think the flag is under here.

You know the Culper code.

Because you're a Culper spy!

Aha! They do exist!

What?! I am not a spy.

Hey, guys, how about we lift the stone?

He is gonna kill us

the moment we confirm the flag is here, isn't he?

If you see a moment, use your spy training.

I am not a spy. I don't have training.

Oh, right.

"Culpers don't exist." Copy that.

Still, use your spy training.

All right. What do we got?

Well, there's a box down there.

All right. How about you go down there and get it?

Me? Yeah.

Oh.

Help me up!

I hear rats down here!

You don't hear rats. You are a rat.

Okay. Let's see it.

It's gone. What?!

Oh, you bastard. You conned me again!

No, that can't be! It has to be here!

Everything led to here!

Hah!

You really are a spy! Run!

Watch out!

FBI! FBI! Drop your weapon!

All right. Drop it!

All right!

Let's try this again, shall we?

You're under arrest. Hey!

Hey. You okay?

Yeah. She used her spy training.

I told you -- I am not a spy.

I-I saw a moment, and I took it.

Hey, your secret's safe with me.

Thank you.

That's a shame.

All that work, and no flag.

Yeah, perhaps, but I still think it was worth it.

You're not upset?

Well, I got conclusive evidence that Culper spies do exist.

And if they do, anything's possible.

Tempest told you she's not a spy.

Oh, she was preserving her cover.

Might I point out she was the first one to open the box?

What does that matter?

The flag was gone.

And so is she.

I think my work here is done.

You don't think it's possible...

Culper descendants are running

some sort of spy ring, do you?

No. No, I...

No.

Yeah. I didn't think so.

You want to get out of here?

Sure.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

www.tvsubtitles.net