All language subtitles for The.Hunting.Party.S02E10.720p.10bit.WEBRip.2CH.x265.HEVC-PSA x

Previously on
"The Hunting Party"...

It's called the Pit.

It's home to the most dangerous

and violent criminals
in history,

all of whom the world believes
are dead.

Or at least it was
until the blast hit.

Dinner with Lazarus was
actually nice.

Nice?

She didn't even know
I was her son

until a couple of weeks ago.

A new hire candidate
at the Pit was flagged

on their security clearance.

Colonel Lazarus personally
pushed it through anyway.

Shane Florence.

It seems like Colonel Lazarus
has known

about Shane for a long time.

Cracked screen.

Oh, that's the worst.

Man, you've got to get yourself
a better case for this thing.

Yeah.

When's the last time
you updated your software?

This thing's moving
a little slow.

- I don't know.
I just need the screen fixed.

It could be a drop.

Oh, snap.

You play "Warmonger" too?

I guess I tried
that out at some point.

Did you, uh... did you
make it to Freya's chariot?

It's pretty epic.

Uh, look, man.

How long will it take
to fix the screen?

Uh, usually two business days.

But for a fellow warmonger,
I can get this done in one.

For Odin.

Right. OK.

Thanks.
- Hell yeah.

Hmm.

What a cool guy.

Oh?

"Really wanted to go see
the Pirates play this weekend,

"but all my boys are
out of town.

FML."

Yes.

And here he comes...

into Turn 4, hugging the line.

Throttle wide open here.

Expanding...

Hey, dude.

I, uh, got your screen fixed.

- Oh.
Uh, thanks.

Oh, and I, uh...

I went ahead and upgraded
the OS for you.

No more buffering
when you play "Warmonger."

Right.

How did you know where I lived?

Company database.

Uh, you didn't have to...

- Oh, it's all good, man.
- Come to my house.

It's... it's fine.

In fact, I didn't even
charge you for it.

And, uh, you were
on my way home,

so I thought I would
just deliver it,

save you from having
to come in again.

OK.

Thanks, man.
- Mm-hmm.

I was... you know, I...

I was supposed to go to
the, um, Pirates game tomorrow,

but my friend just flaked on me.

Is there any chance that
you would want to go?

They're great seats.

I splurged.

- Yeah, uh...
you know what, man?

I don't really like baseball.

So, um... but you have
a good time.

OK?

You told your mom that you
wanted to go to the game.

What the he...

did you go through my phone?

Why are you lying to me?

You love baseball.

Get the hell out
of here, you creep.

- I was trying to be nice.
- Hey.

Did you hear what I said?

I said get out.

Ugh!

Shane, it's all there.

Seven years ago, you were
recruited to work at the Pit,

but your file was flagged
during the vetting process

and denied.

Until, of course, Lazarus
pushed it through herself.

- Hey.
I'm sorry, man.

She didn't just figure out
that you're her biological son.

She's known for years.

It doesn't say in here
why I was rejected.

You didn't pass the psych eval.

My source told me when
they dug all this up.

What, they thought I was
too crazy for the Pit?

No. No, no.

Places like this,
they want people

they can control
that follow orders,

no matter how unethical.

It is a good thing that
you did not check those boxes.

- A good thing?
You sure about that?

I mean, I checked
the right box for Dr. Fairfax,

maybe he was onto something.

Nah, don't do that.

Don't do that.

I know who you are.

We both do.

And she's an expert.

Yeah, all right.

OK, so she lied to me.

She pushed my paperwork through.

She wanted me here.

Why?

If she wasn't gonna tell
me who she was,

why go through the trouble?

Best case scenario,
you're her estranged son.

Feelings are complicated.

Worst case?

Literally anything else.

Speaking of.

We need you out here.

Yep.

Shane.

We're gonna figure this out.

Yeah.

- All right.
- Thanks, man.

Yeah.

All right, folks.

This is a sensitive one.

Inmate K77, Byron May...
his fingerprints were found

all over a murder scene
in Pittsburgh.

Locals ran the prints
already, but, as usual,

our system intercepted
the request

and bounced back
a no-match reference.

Byron May.

I don't know this one.

Well, that's a first.

Well, in the 2010s
he worked as a tech specialist

at an electronics store
where he crossed

all seven of his victims.

And after only brief
encounters...

After a brief encounter,

he would become fixated
on his victims.

But after they inevitably
rejected his overtures,

he would beat them to death
with an improvised weapon.

Yeah?
- Uh, sorry.

I thought you said
you didn't know this guy.

No, I don't know this guy.

But that is the work
of the East Side Ripper,

and his name is not Byron May.

It's Victor Rosa, who is serving

consecutive life sentences

at the Pennsylvania
State Penitentiary.

So either they have
the wrong guy or the Pit does.

What the hell are
we talking about?

What we're talking about
here, Agent Henderson,

is a very delicate situation.

Is there an innocent
man in prison?

Are you serious?

I'm afraid it's more
complicated than that.

The East Side Ripper was
a serial case

of particular interest
to scientists in the Pit.

In 2013, they used covert
surveillance technology

to positively identify
him as Byron May,

and our team took
him into custody.

He had no friends or family,

so no one even noticed
he disappeared.

OK, so you had
the actual killer in custody,

did not tell the police,
the case stayed open

until 2015 when Victor Rosa
was arrested.

I was not involved.

But that's correct.

For obvious reasons,
the Pit does not share

information
with local authorities.

You understand.

You had the right guy,

and you did nothing
to help an innocent man?

Be that as it may, your job...

our job... is to catch Byron May
before he kills again.

Nothing more.
Understood?

- Mm, not again.
Come on.

You were supposed to be at work.

Who the hell are you?

How are you feeling, Byron?

Safe.

Can you hear your mother?

Yes.

Can you hear her heartbeat?

Your mother loves you very much.

I know.

Your tax dollars hard
at work, ladies and gentlemen.

I did one of them sensory
deprivation chambers once.

I just fell asleep.
It was a waste of 50 bucks.

This isn't quite
a sensory deprivation chamber.

This was, uh, something
called birth therapy,

where a patient
is put in a simulation

of his mother's womb.

It's supposed to trigger
early childhood memories.

- Does that even work?
- Sometimes.

Either way, when
Byron got to the Pit,

the therapist traced the genesis

of his social dysfunction
back to a traumatic birth.

The umbilical cord was
wrapped around his neck.

OK, but that doesn't
exactly add up

to serial killer, though, right?

My nephew was born the same way,

and he works for a nonprofit.

No, I'm... I'm just saying.

How does sticking Byron in a
futuristic fake womb supposed

to fix all the murdering?

I think the hope is
that he'd be in a state

where the social conditioning
could be rewired.

It actually paid
off in dividends.

You know, when people
brought their devices in to me,

I think they forgot that
they store their entire lives

on those things.

Pictures of their kids, friends,

texts, emails,

the lies they tell, secrets.

Things they love, hate.

I could spend hours going
through someone's phone.

And, by the end, I would know
everything about this person.

I mean, things they wouldn't
even share with their mother.

It was like a shortcut,
a cheat code.

I felt so close to them,

but it didn't matter.

It always went the same way.

It's normal to want connection,

but you can't force imaginary
ones into existence.

All I ever wanted is
for people to like me,

and I just don't
understand how other people

can make friends so easily.

It's like the more I try,

the more people seem
put off by it.

Genuine friendships take
time and understanding.

They're based on
a reciprocal interest,

and that just doesn't
happen overnight.

So Byron had trouble forming
authentic relationships

as a kid.

He couldn't do anything
about that rejection.

But as an adult,
he responded to that rejection

with violence.

OK, here's what I'm wondering.

Byron killed
seven people, right?

How did investigators pin that
guy's crazy on an innocent man?

So he and Victor worked at
the same electronics store.

Circumstantial evidence,

a DA that was under pressure
to find the killer.

Yeah, it wouldn't
be the first time

an innocent person is
railroaded by the system.

All right.

So Victor Rosa gets
a life sentence,

this guy gets spa treatments.

Yeah.

No.

No, screw Lazarus.

We're not going to let an
innocent man spend the rest

of his life in prison, right?

No, we're not.

All right.

Well, if we're gonna
put this right,

we better find Byron first.

Yeah.

- Thank you.
- Of course.

James Wilson.

Time of death was
about a week ago.

They just uncovered
the body this morning,

when a maintenance worker
called about a weird smell.

He was stabbed 63 times
with a fork.

Huh.

Spur-of-the-moment kill.

That tracks, right?

If he's following his old MO,

he would have crossed
with James before all this.

I've been reviewing
James's socials,

and I just found
something super creepy

in one of his photos.
Check it out.

Looks pretty wholesome.

Oh, that is creepy.

He took a photo with
the guy who would kill him,

and he had no idea.

Morales, when was this taken?

Two months ago.

He was stalking
James for a while.

Morales.

Hey, guys.

Ben just got an angle
on James's house.

Ring camera from across
the street has a clear view.

I've got Byron leaving
the house in a hurry

eight days ago, presumably
right after the kill.

The strange thing is,
there's no footage

of Byron entering that day.

And there are cameras
angled all over this house.

How could he have
exited without entering?

Maybe he tunneled in.

Hey. Keep going back
a little further.

Scrubbing.

Nothing.

Keep going.

OK, going back even further.

What are you thinking?

All Byron's previous kills,
they happened

at the entrance of the home.

Maybe James invited him in.

Except there's no
footage of him coming

in through the front door.

Maybe he didn't
use the front door.

- Whoa.
Zoom in on that vent.

We got him.

Sending it over now.

When was that?

Four weeks ago.

And then we don't
have Byron on camera

again until the day
he killed James and fled.

Well, that doesn't make sense.

Unless he was
already in the home.

He didn't need to enter
to kill James,

'cause he was already inside.

Well, how do you stay in
someone's house for a month

without anyone noticing?

Hey, don't step
on the insulation.

Underneath, it's just drywall.

You go right through.

You think that's where
Byron was sleeping?

Looks like a rat's nest.

It's not a nest.

It's a womb.

Guys, I found something.

Hey.

Check this out.

What is that?

He's spying on them through
the holes in the air vents.

Look.

And there's another one.

Hey, these angles, they match
those photos over there.

Jeez, why can't you
just follow James around

like a normal stalker?

You guys ever heard
of, uh, phrogging?

- What?
Like the, uh...

retro video game?

No, like... like, phrogging.

Like, P-H-R-O...

no?

OK.

Phrogging... basically,
someone sneaks into

another person's home
while they're away or at work,

and they just don't leave.

That person comes home
and has no idea that there's

a stranger in their walls,
or their basement,

or, in this case, the attic.

Now that he's killed James,
I wouldn't be surprised

if Byron is creeping around his
next victim's attic right now.

Phroggers were often
deprived of human connection

and use their
voyeuristic position

to connect with their victims.

There's this
vicarious thrill they get

from staying in
someone's home or their life.

Most of the time, it traces
back to early childhood,

because they were forced to hide

due to trauma,
shame, deep insecurity.

Hey, Bo.

You want a treat?

There you go.

Now, by spying
on someone's most naked

and vulnerable moments,
they get to actually connect.

A lot of the time, it goes
back months or even years.

And it's usually non-violent,
but, occasionally,

things take a turn.

Byron used to use his
victims' phones

to gain access
to their personal life.

It's how he got to know them.

But, now, without his job
or that access,

he's infiltrating their lives,
studying them 24/7.

So Byron got to know
James by spying on him.

But moving into
a victim's house,

that is a high-risk move.

Accidental contact
is bound to happen.

So he gets caught,
there's a confrontation,

and he kills James with a fork.

Yeah. So all his encounters
have gone wrong.

You're saying he's...
he's gonna keep doing this.

What happens when it goes right?

It never will.

Byron's still trying to shortcut

normal social development.

He's using the information
that he gathered

during phrogging to create
a chance meeting

with his victims.

Just like his previous MO,
he's gonna craft himself

into what he thinks is
the perfect match

for the object of his obsession.

But it's gonna be just
as manufactured

and empty as before.

So when he inevitably
gets rejected,

he's gonna kill again.

Hey, buddy.

Walk time.

Bo, where are you going?

Bo?

Come on, boy.
Let's go.

Bo, come on, boy.

Let's go.

Hey.

I'm sorry, I didn't
know Eric had company.

I'm Lee, the dog walker.

I'm just here
to take him for a walk.

What, uh... what are you doing?

You know, I... I can
come back another time.

Guys.

You've got to see this.

This is all true crime.

There's an entire section
on serial killers.

No way.

Yeah, there's at
least half a dozen books

on the East Side Ripper.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

The Pit.

It taught Byron that friendship
should be reciprocal.

He fixated on James
because he thought

James was fixated on him.

But how did Byron know
about James's interest

in the East Side Ripper
to begin with?

Bookstore?

True crime convention?

- Mm-hmm.
Probably got a fan club.

It feels more specific.

Morales, can you see
if there's a connection

between James and Victor Rosa?

Get this.

James made two requests to
visit Victor Rosa in prison.

Visiting a serial killer
in prison,

that's a whole other
level of fandom.

But it wasn't reciprocated.

Looks like Victor rejected
both requests.

No, there's got to be
some kind of interaction.

Phone calls, letters, something.

Prison keeps a record
of all correspondence.

Yeah, there's a letter
from James to Victor

from two years ago.

Read that to us, please.

"Dear East Side Ripper,
I know how hard

"it is for you to make friends.

You've done terrible things,
but, then again, who hasn't?"

"I believe that you
didn't mean to do them.

"I know there's
goodness inside of you,

"and it's a goodness
that I understand.

"It's goodness I would
like to correspond with.

Please write me back.
I want to know your story."

I'm gonna need
a list of anyone who wrote

letters to Victor Rosa.

Guys, Victor Rosa
received a lot of mail

over the last ten years.

But if I ignore everything
from his family and lawyers...

Huh.

James was one of four people
who sent fan mail

to the East Side Ripper
in prison.

Can you imagine being
innocent and getting fan mail?

Can you imagine writing
fan mail to a serial killer?

It's actually quite common.

It's a form of hybristophilia.
- That's right.

We saw that with Carol and her
love affair with Mark Marsden.

Exactly, but instead
of falling in love,

James formed
an asexual obsession

with the East Side Ripper.

Morales, let's
do a wellness check

on the rest of the superfans.

Tell the officers
to make sure they're safe

and lock down their homes.
We're on our way now.

Two steps ahead of you.

Pulling the addresses now.

I'll send them to you
and Pittsburgh PD.

- Copy.
Let's go.

Bex?

What are we doing?

I gotta talk to Victor Rosa.

You mean, uh,
the guy Lazarus gave us

express orders
to stay away from?

That's the guy you want
to talk to?

- Yeah.
- I'm not complaining.

I just want to make sure
we're all on the same page.

OK, look. Regardless of
whether we're right or wrong

about the superfan angle,

we still have
one unanswered question.

How did Byron get his hands
on letters that were meant

for Victor Rosa in prison?

Uh, why do I get the feeling
you're about to suggest

that we split up?

- Work the angle.
No, it's fine.

I'll get one of the officers
to drop me off.

OK, Bex?

Please be careful.

You be careful.

I'm the one talking
to an innocent man.

Well, tell him
we're getting him out.

Hey, officers.

- You know what this means.
I got shotgun.

- Yo!
What's up, Snowflake?

Yeah!

That's what I'm talking about.

Can I get up in that
coat with you, girl?

Here's the thing
about Victor Rosa.

He ain't once taking
responsibility

for what he's done.

- Aww.
Nah, don't go away.

This is a place
of rehabilitation.

I miss you, beautiful.

You can't start that
journey unless you own what

got you here in the first.

Yeah, I bet a lot of inmates
claim they're innocent.

You ever get one that
actually was, though?

To hear them tell it,
they all are.

Come to think of it, we must be
the most saintly square block

in America.

Victor get many visitors?

Only his wife.

She comes every week,
has done for years.

I know it's hard
for family members.

They can't accept the truth,
especially when

the incarcerated can't
face it themselves.

Thanks.

You take as long as you need.

Mr. Rosa,

my name is Special Agent
Rebecca Henderson.

I'm with the FBI.

Is this about my appeal?

Um, actually, this is about...

this is about the murder
of James Wilson.

Never heard of him.

Are you sure?

Because it says that
he sent you letters twice

while you've been in prison.

These were written
to the East Side Ripper.

That's not me.

OK... they weren't
written to you.

But what did you do with them?

I mean, I know that
the prison screens them.

But once you actually got them,
did you keep them?

Look, my lawyer said
it was all right.

They're my property.

I can share them
with whoever I want.

What do you mean, share them?

Sorry. Who...
who did you share these with?

Hey, listen to this.

It's from Kenneth Wiley.

"Dear Mr. Ripper, I am writing
to you today as someone

"who has the utmost respect
and understanding

for what you have
gone through."

- Mr. Ripper?
- Yeah.

Yeah, we need a
watch list for anyone

sending fan mail
to serial killers,

especially the ones
using honorific titles.

Fanboy or not, Mr. Wiley
is a potential victim.

I just got confirmation
from local officers.

They're en route

to all three locations.
- All right.

Tell them we're five minutes
out from Wiley's,

and we're going to cross them
off the list one by one.

Copy.

I'd like to report
a missing dog.

When did you last
see your missing dog?

Um, at home this morning
before I left for work.

OK, I see.

Any more details
you can give me?

He went out with my dog walker,

but I can't reach him.

And he hasn't come home yet.

He's a multicolored Pomeranian.

He's mostly black.

Um, two years old.

His name is Bo.

- Is he microchipped?
- Yes, he is.

He's microchipped.

Shh.

It's OK.
Good boy.

Good boy.

- Victor, I want to help you.
OK?

Look, I get it.

You don't trust law enforcement.

I wouldn't either
if I were in your shoes, but...

I'm gonna level with you, OK?

The DA that convicted you,
he ignored evidence

due to political pressure
to get a conviction.

He also suppressed
critical testimony.

Believe me when I say
I want to help you.

My wife visits me every week.

Ten years.

I'm not the only one in prison.

Do you understand?

My son thinks I'm a killer.

He doesn't visit.

He doesn't write anymore.

I'm sorry.

He said that he still loves me,

that he understands what
horrible mistakes I've made.

But he's not going to
visit me until I confess

that I'm the East Side Ripper.

So admit that I'm a monster
that I'm not...

Or never see my son again.

What kind of choice is that?

The choice you
don't have to make.

I know you're innocent.

Victor, I need your help
to prove that.

OK.

I think I found
a friend of yours.

Oh, my God.

That... I can't believe it.

Thank you. Ah.

- Where... where...
where did you find him?

Just, uh, wandering
over by the park.

Yeah.

I saw the address on
the collar and figured

I'd just walk over here and...

I... I don't know how I'm
going to be able to thank you.

Oh.

I... um, uh...

do you want to come in?

Can I get you a drink
or something?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah, a drink would be nice.

Yeah, thanks.

Yeah.

Morales, new wrinkle.

There's evidence
that Byron has been

to each of the houses
that we've been to.

But by the looks of it,
he didn't stay long.

Wait.

He cased the others
before settling on James?

That's what it looks like.

We've only got one
person left on the list.

Hey, how come we can't
get a hold of Bex?

She's still at the prison.

She had to give up her
comms and her phone.

All right. Let her know
we're on our way

to the last house
and to meet us there.

On it.

Who did you send
James Wilson's letters to?

Victor, look.

I can't tell you why,
but this information,

it could get you out of here.

Her name is Kendra Wilcox.

She's a famous crime writer.

She's gotten people
exonerated before.

It's the only reason
I wrote her back.

And she specifically
asked for the letters?

She asked for everything.

I gave her case files,
letters from my family,

the fan mail, all of it.

OK.

- Ma'am. Phone call.
- Thanks.

Sorry, Victor.
One second.

Henderson.
- Bex.

We've been trying
to get a hold of you.

The guys have searched all
the houses on the list,

and there was evidence
that Byron was there.

But now we've run
out of fan mail.

Great.

Byron focused on the fan mail
because it gave him

acceptance and understanding.

So who else?

Who else would write
Victor letters expressing

acceptance and understanding

for the East Side Ripper's
crimes?

Hey, you said your son...
he used to write you letters?

Eric hasn't written
me in a long time.

Morales.

Uh, my name's Eric, by the way.

Eric Rosa.

Byron.

It's nice to meet you.

Cheers.

Byron posed as
a famous crime writer

who promised to help Victor
with the case,

and that's why Victor sent
him everything.

So Victor thinks he's been
emailing someone who can help

prove his innocence, but really,

he's been talking to
the actual killer all along.

Morales, did you find
Eric Rosa's letters

that he sent his father?
- Yeah, listen to this.

"People talk about
the East Side Ripper

"like he's a monster,
and I understand why.

"You and I both know
life isn't that simple.

"Nothing is black and white.

"I know you have a lot
of love in your heart,

"but I can't be in your
life unless you admit

to being a murderer and ask for
forgiveness for your crimes."

That's exactly what
Byron would want to read.

I need Eric's phone
number right now.

And I was just running by
the park when I saw him alone.

I'm training for a marathon.

- Oh.
No way.

The... the Chatsville?

- Uh, yeah.
- Me too.

We... uh, we got
to train together.

I got a group of buddies.

We all go running
in the mornings.

- Oh, yeah.
Definitely.

Mm.

Oh, man.

I'm sorry, but I've got
to probably call it a night.

Got to get up early for work.

The old grindstone, huh?

- Mm-hmm.
- All good.

Um, listen.

Thank you for bringing him home.

I... I don't know what I would
have done if I lost him.

Of course.

And no worries.

I have to go visit
my dad tomorrow anyway.

Oh, uh, where does he live?

He's, uh, in prison.

He's a good guy, but he got
into a fight with someone.

And it's been
a really hard few years.

But it's a long story.

I'm so sorry, man.

That really sucks.
- Yeah.

Anyway, I don't know why
I just said all that.

Oversharing.

I'll see you around.

Uh, hey. Wait.

Um...

Believe it or not,
I know what that's like.

Yeah, my dad's in prison too.

I don't talk about it a lot,

but, um, my dad is Victor Rosa.

Uh...
- He's the East Side Ripper.

- Wow.
- Yeah.

Uh, most people are pretty
freaked out when I tell them.

That's not very fair to you.

Uh, sorry.
Just one second.

Oh, God.

Huh.
- What is it?

What's wrong?

Um, my dog walker's
body was just found.

Um, someone killed him.

I guess that's why Bo
was wandering around lost.

How'd you know his name was Bo?

His collar.

It's just an address
on the collar.

He isn't picking up.

Oh, well, if his name's
not on his collar,

you must have said it, then.

Y-yeah.

Yeah. Yeah.

You're... you're probably right.

Listen, I... I should
probably deal with this.

So...
- OK.

OK.

Well, this was really nice.

I hope to see you around.

Yeah. Yeah.

Stace?

Eric Rosa, this is the FBI.

Are you home right now?
- The... the FBI?

I need you to be quiet
and listen to me.

We have reason to believe that
there's a dangerous intruder

in your house.

You need to get out
and go somewhere safe now.

We'll be there in two minutes.
- Wait, are... are you...

are you talking about
the weirdo guy, Byron?

Did he kill my dog walker?

Eric, get out of your house now!

- No.
No, no, no.

No.
It's fine.

He just left.

No, he didn't!

He is in your house right now!

Eric!

Eric!

Eric! Stop!

Please, stop!

What do you want from me?

I just want to be your friend.

Eric, I know you can forgive me.

I know because you
said so yourself.

What... what are
you talking about?

In your letters,
you said that you could

forgive the East Side Ripper.

I wrote those letters to my dad.

Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.

Help me!

Somebody help me, please!

Hey! Hey!

Byron, drop the knife!

Byron! Drop it!

- OK.
You're OK.

Yep.

You all right?

We just need his
fingerprints, right?

You're all right.

You're OK.
- Come on.

I'm calling the cleaners.

- Wait.
Stop, stop, stop.

Shane's right.

We're not cleaning this one up.

Victor Rosa will never be free

if they don't find
the real killer.

Hassani.

Morales, in about 30 minutes,
Pittsburgh PD is

about to send over some prints.

Make sure they're
a match this time.

Will do.

Victor.

Hey.

How are you doing?

The lawyer says
you're getting out.

This new evidence,
the fingerprints,

change everything.

He'll have the appeal
filed tonight.

Oh!

Eric.

Come here. Come here.

Oh, my God.

Thank you.

Hey.

Thank you.

OK, thanks for letting me know.

Hey.

I just got off the phone
with Eric Rosa.

His father is gonna be
a free man.

Hey, we did the right thing.

But there will be consequences.

Lazarus wants to talk to us.

Let her.

Hell if this ain't justice.

Yeah.

You know, there's
always been this...

This part of me that...

you know, daydreamed,
when I finally met my mom,

she'd be a good person,
you know?

Just misunderstood
or wrongly convicted

like Victor Rosa.

Yeah.

Hey.

You really think
she attacked Cyrus's convoy?

I do.

OK.

Hey.

We still don't have proof.

Well, we need to find some.