Original subtitles

They were going to move it upstairs.

"Not expressly stated." Five letters, second one is an "A."

How about "tacit"?

No wonder I haven't finished crosswords since you moved in with Max.

How is he, by the way?

- I wouldn't know. We broke up. - What? How did I not know?

- When did he move out? - He didn't. His parents own the place.

I'm staying on the pullout in the office.

- You're sleeping in your restaurant? - It's just temporary.

Come sleep on my couch. I'll help you binge-eat past Max.

And you can help me figure out the three-letter word for:

"It has benefits."

- Uh... Give me a minute? - Mm-hm.

This is Park.

Yes. Of course.

Sir, I'm sorry. Can you hold for just one moment?

Hey, everything okay?

- Landlord troubles. Story of my life. - Didn't look like landlord trouble.

J-O-B.

Three across. "It has benefits." The answer is "job." Go do yours.

I'll call you tonight.

Agent Park.

Why is it the really wealthy always want to own a restaurant?

I'm sure for some it has a lot to do with glad-handing and backslapping.

For me, it was sort of a friend in need.

Now it's a project. We're expanding.

And this, an office, with a stove and a walk-in. Hungry? I could make an omelet.

- No, thank you, I ate. - Coffee?

Cooper's tied up at Main Justice. He said you had a case.

What do you know about the Nuremberg trials?

Military tribunals after World War Il.

Allied Forces prosecuting Nazi leadership for war crimes.

They gave the devil his day in court

and invented simultaneous translation to do it.

Are you giving me a case or a history lesson?

If it weren't for the Allies' desire to give Göring a fair trial,

the Wellstone Agency might not exist.

In fact, it doesn't exist, not officially, and yet its services

have made thousands of illicit business transactions possible.

- A translation service for crooks. - Crime is a global trade.

Criminals need to communicate,

and that requires interpreters they can trust.

The Wellstone Agency provides just that.

A bunch of translators.

I believe Agent Keen recently acquired Wellstone's services.

If we find the interpreter she used, we may be able to find her.

Why come to us? You're a criminal. Haven't you used this company?

I have.

But my point person and I recently had a falling out.

And without him, I have no way to reach the senior leadership.

I need your help to get inside the company.

Have you considered simply leaving Keen alone?

Taking a breath to consider your role in all this.

Harold isn't in the meeting, is he?

No. I came here to tell you I think what you're doing is wrong.

You're making things worse by pursuing her.

It's Paula. Glen's mother.

She says she needs to see you. Says it's urgent.

Agent Park, next time you feel the urge to unburden yourself,

you can rest assured, I've heard it all before.

It's a luxury to stand on the moral high ground

and critique those of us on the low ground.

A lot of people do exactly that.

- Until they need my help. - I'll never ask for your help.

And yet here I am asking for yours.

The Wellstone Agency.

It's the next name on the Blacklist.

According to Reddington, the agency's inner workings are cloaked in secrecy.

Their interpreters are kept in the dark as to who runs the organization.

So how do they communicate?

Through dispatchers who contact the criminal parties,

arrange payments and assign interpreters.

The dispatch has all the information. The interpreters know nothing.

Reddington's lost contact with his dispatch.

- What's our in? - His interpreter.

Wellstone relies on its interpreters for referrals.

It's how they recruit translators.

Reddington's interpreter will refer someone we pick?

And that person gets brought in and vetted,

giving him a window to access the system

and get the name of the interpreter Keen used.

Maybe the name of who she was negotiating with, and for what.

Normally, I'd reach out to Language Analysis.

What our interpreter learns may compromise Keen.

So I want to keep this in-house.

- I only speak English. - I speak Korean.

- Does sign language count? - Definitely not.

Then I'm down to six.

You speak six languages?

Not including Latin, which I doubt would come in handy

unless the criminal I interpreted for was the Pope.

- Imagine that confessional. - Park, reach out to Reddington.

Tell him Aram's going in and to arrange a meeting with his contact.

Ressler, start laying the groundwork for a cover story.

As if I'm not already asking you to do too much, try and open this drive.

- Okay. Is this about a case? - Not sure.

Which is why I need you to keep this between us.

Nobody knows, especially Reddington.

- Paula! Hi! - Steven!

Got your message. Is everything all right?

Oh, thanks for coming. Hello, Bill.

Oh, the girls and I were just tasting the cakes. Come in.

Oh, would either of you like a slice of cake?

Um...

Lemon, carrot and pink champagne?

No, thank you. Maybe later.

What are we celebrating, Paula?

Maybe you boys should sit down.

Is Glen here?

Glen... transitioned.

I don't know what that means.

He died.

What? What do you mean?

From West Nile.

Oh, come on.

Come on. If this is one of Glen's dreadful practical jokes...

I would have gotten in touch sooner,

but I have been so busy with the planning and the party.

He didn't want no regular funeral, you know.

Jelly Bean wanted his friends to send him off with a real shindig.

A potluck with dancing.

And Huey, of course.

West Nile?

Paula, I am so sorry.

Thank you, Bill.

- When did this happen? - A bit over two weeks ago.

I know. I should have called, but you slipped my mind.

And then Trudy and I were going through

some of their dirty letters and we found this.

I was halfway inclined to open it,

but you were his friend, and I want to respect his wishes.

He didn't send me no letter.

Hey, what do you think about Luke bringing his chicken tater bake?

I think it could be real popular.

I can't believe this is happening.

Boys, I gotta go.

There is too much to do before Huey gets here.

But do come to the party.

Jelly would want you there, tomorrow at 7 at the DMV.

And don't forget to bring a covered dish and your own tableware.

What the hell?

- She was lucky to get out. - Jenna. Hey.

I came as soon as I got your text.

- What happened? - Fire in the kitchen.

The smoke alarm didn't work.

The doctors are prepping for surgery.

But she's gonna be okay?

They...

They don't know.

Hey. Talk to me.

What's going on?

Last year, we fell behind at the restaurant.

The banks wouldn't touch us. So Melissa went to a local guy for help.

- You borrowed from a loan shark? - It did help for a while.

But this month... It's the fourth payment we missed in six months.

This is the guy who came yesterday. He did this to Melissa.

I knew it was dangerous not to pay, but I didn't think they'd do this.

What's his name?

He works with other people.

- They'll come for us. - That won't happen.

I promise.

Let me take care of this.

She was living there. Melissa, the daughter.

- You gonna arrest me? For what? - Loan-sharking, arson, attempted murder.

I don't know where you got your information from,

but nobody would be stupid enough to point the finger at me.

Is that a threat? Did you threaten my witness?

Take it easy.

That's sure as hell how it sounded.

Honestly, the gall! After all I've already done for him?

All the jobs, the attention paid.

All the time spent suffering his antics.

All the money... That ridiculous sports car.

He was a civil servant.

How could he explain all that stuff? The money and all.

I understand that.

But why is it somehow my job to help explain away the fortune I paid him?

- He had to say something. - Something, yes.

But the man told everyone he knew that he was Huey Lewis' muse.

How, in any stretch of the imagination,

does that explain his crazy, extravagant lifestyle?

What, Huey Lewis bought him a red Mercedes?

Does Huey Lewis even have a muse?

Did Glen really tell his mother Huey would attend?

"This friendship with Huey has always accounted for everything.

My travels to Europe and Bangkok,

all the cash, the cars, everything in Vegas."

I can't even.

"Even the absence of any other long-term relationship

over the last 30 years,

Huey is, in a word, the reason." Two words.

"Which is why his failure to attend my memorial

would be seen as a snub so great

that I'm afraid it may send Mother into a heartbroken tailspin

which she may never recover from."

- I mean... - Mm. Talk about the power of love.

How is this possible?

It's as if he's reaching up from the grave to torment and abuse me one last time.

Raymond, Glen needs you.

To do what?

To bird-dog some pop star to inform him that his most beloved songs

were inspired by his bromance with a clerk from the DMV?

He needs you to convince Huey to come to his memorial.

Well, I'm not doing it.

It's his dying wish.

No. It's one of his dying wishes.

- What's the other? - Forget it.

What does it say?

Ah. "Mother wants to place my remains on her mantle.

I don't like the idea of spending my days looking down on Mother,

so I want you to abscond with my ashes and spread them."

Spread them where?

"I want to spend eternity at the glorious feet

of that grand dame, the Statue of Liberty."

I don't think it's legal to spread ashes on Liberty Island.

It doesn't matter because I'm not doing it.

I'm not lying to Paula or spreading his ashes.

And I'm certainly not

hunting down Huey Lewis

or begging him to come to Glen's potluck memorial.

Jesus.

- What is it? - It's Glen's mom.

She's asking if you can bake a tray of scotcheroos.

- They're short on desserts. - Okay.

Raymond, you know we have to do this.

For Glen.

See if you can find Mr. Lewis' address.

But I'm not breaking into the Statue of Liberty to spread Glen's ashes.

Stealing from Wellstone is a terrible idea.

But Reddington's made it clear I have to get you inside the company.

So let me be blunt. I'm not your friend. I think that this is a suicide mission.

And the only reason I'm helping you is so that we don't both end up dead.

Okay, let me try and say this back to you. I take the pill.

I black out.

Then I wake up in the custody of people I don't know,

for a test I might pass, in the hopes I get the job instead of getting killed?

- I told you it's a bad idea. - If I could just get to...

- It won't work. - All I need is one client's translator.

- They have to have logs... - You're not listening.

These people run a criminal enterprise.

They traffic in secrets.

To protect those secrets, they won't hesitate to kill you, or me,

or anyone they think is a liability.

It's your funeral.

Welcome back, Mr. Stone. Did you have a nice rest?

I, uh... don't remember getting here.

My name is Miss Jessica.

I'm here to discuss the matrix of tests we'll administer

- to see if you're a Wellstone candidate. - "Matrix of tests"?

- What tests? - I'm so glad you asked.

We'll begin with a polygraph-augmented consultation.

Baseline questions. Work profile. Personal history.

Relevant experience and potential conflicts.

We'll follow with an aptitude test and behavioral inquiry.

We'll gauge the strength of your language of expertise.

Dialects, prose, vocabulary and expression.

We'll audit that with some mock sessions.

Scripted scenarios based on actual encounters

to test neutrality, composure and patience.

Before all that, I do want to stress,

our primary objective at Wellstone is privacy.

Without discretion, we can't protect our clients, ourselves or you.

So, Mr. Stone, can you be discreet?

Yes. I'm Mr. Discreet.

- You wanted to see me? - The arrest that you made earlier.

Uh, Mason Dieterle.

He burned down my friend's restaurant.

I just got off the phone with the AUSA reviewing the case.

He told me your friend passed away from her injuries.

I'm sorry.

He also told me that he declined to file charges

for either arson or attempted murder.

What? Why? He burned down that diner. This was arson.

AUSA said he didn't have any evidence to prove that.

Can you prove that Dieterle was responsible for that fire?

Do you have a witness? A print on a can of gasoline or accelerant?

- No, I just thought that... - That's the problem.

You didn't think. You reacted.

Dieterle was arraigned on a loan-sharking charge

and made bail 20 minutes ago.

I'm concerned, Alina.

You have a history of acting on your anger,

at times letting your emotions get the better of you.

Now your friend is dead,

and the man that you think is responsible is back on the street.

Promise me you will not do anything about that.

Do I have your word?

Yes. You do.

Mr. Lewis, I just want to say it's a privilege

and a great pleasure to meet you.

I appreciate that. Thank you very much.

Thank you for agreeing to see me.

I take it you're something of a culinary man. I love to cook.

- Uh, to be honest, Mr. Homan... - Steve, please.

Okay. To be honest, Steve, I only agreed because my manager insisted.

Oh, I did Jerry a favor once.

Well, a friend of Jerry's.

Must have been quite a favor.

- Can I get you something? Coffee? - No, no, no. Thank you.

I don't want to take up any more of your time than necessary.

- Mm-hm. - I'm here

because a dear friend of mine passed away recently.

- Pillar of his community. - Mm-hm.

Loved his mother. Paula. Wonderful, wonderful woman.

And he...

Well, he absolutely cherished your music.

- He knew every word of every song. - Oh.

Really.

Now, I realize it's a bit of a long shot,

but I was wondering if you might consider, for a price, of course,

might consider attending his memorial service...

at the Rockville, Maryland DMV.

It's tonight, 7 p.m.

The DMV?

Yes. Glen was regional manager.

Did, um, Jerry know that this is what you wanted to ask me?

As I said, uh, I sort of did him a favor once.

To play the funeral of some guy at the DMV?

Regional manager.

You do know that Quincy Jones asked me to sing on "We Are the World."

A stirring performance.

And a great honor and tribute.

Love of your fellow man and all that.

Not entirely unlike the love a son might have for his mother.

A desire to make her proud, to impress her.

- Mm-hm. - Things were said through the years.

I think he...

He told his mother he inspired you to record "Workin' for a Livin"'

after a game of beer pong in the back of a bar in Teaneck.

She believed him?

Believed him? Oh, no. No.

To her, it would make perfect sense

that her son was singularly responsible for your legendary song.

And that you, who benefitted from her son's inspiration,

would want more than anything to show up

at his memorial service to pay your respects.

Okay.

Is this a joke? Did Ralphie put you up to this?

I am so sorry. I mean it, you can name your price.

- To play the Rockville DMV? - No, you don't have to play.

Just show up. Say a few words.

Plus, if you do, I'll owe you a favor. I'm a good person to have in your debt.

So you'll do whatever I ask?

- Absolutely. - Great.

I'm gonna ask you to leave.

I got an interview across town in an hour.

I gotta eat, get ready. I don't want to be late.

Sorry. You have to go.

Thank you, Mr. Stone. Miss Jessica will be with you momentarily.

Okay.

Yes.

This is certainly unexpected.

That is what I thought.

- What happened to being discreet? - Excuse me?

I was waiting for you when I spilled my soda.

Then I came to your desk for a tissue,

when I found this on your computer.

Is this how this works?

- I don't follow. - All of you people are putting me

through a matrix of tests to find out if you can trust me,

and yet you carelessly leave this client profile open on your laptop?

What if I were an FBI agent, undercover,

and saw the profile of this guy, this...

Alexander Frayne.

This is sloppy. I don't like it.

- My assistant... - It doesn't matter.

This is lazy, unprofessional.

I'm sorry that this has shaken your confidence in us, Mr. Stone.

I do hope you'll reconsider.

- Reconsider? - The job.

You passed with flying colors.

If you'll have us, we'd like to welcome you to Wellstone.

Harold, please give me good news.

- Agent Mojtabai got a name. - Liz's interpreter was Alexander Frayne.

Works in D.C. for the U.N. Human Rights Council.

We've notified MPD. Units are en route to him now.

- This is Alexander. - Mr. Frayne, you have a problem.

- I've got lots of them. Who is this? - Someone who can offer you a way out.

The FBI knows you moonlight for the Wellstone Agency

and the MPD are on their way to arrest you.

- They're here. - Make your way to Dupont Circle.

Look for a black Mercedes.

Northwest corner of Connecticut Avenue.

- Hello, Mr. Frayne. - Who are you?

- Why are you helping me? - Quid pro quo, Alexander.

You interpreted a meeting between this woman and another party.

I need to know who she met and what they talked about.

I can't help you.

Let me rephrase.

No, no. Wait. Um...

I'm not saying I won't help. I'm saying I can't.

- I don't know who he was. - You facilitated their conversation.

He was Bosnian. But they don't give out names.

She paid 700 grand for a manila envelope. I never saw what was inside.

Who has the names?

The head of the company, I guess. I don't even know who that is.

But if you send the right message, he'll get it.

Your contact at Wellstone, call them. Say you have a situation.

Let them know Raymond Reddington wants to help.

Jenna, nothing's gonna happen to you.

I promised you'd be okay. I said I'd take care of it. I will.

I just came to talk.

You sent men to Jenna's apartment?

You didn't have to do that.

I told you, I just wanted to talk.

Hey.

It's Agent Park.

Something's happened.

I need your help.

- Hello? - What the hell did you do?

- Jorgensen? - They know about us.

- The company knows there's a mole. - Uh...

What are you talking about?

They think the FBI's onto them. I told you this was a mistake.

And now I've got a target on my back because of you.

I gotta call you back.

Is, uh... something wrong?

Come with me. The Colonel would like to see you.

♪ The air is still ♪

Reddington. I told him we were going to pick up Frayne.

Now Frayne's gone. Reddington got there first.

But we sent agents. Wellstone knows someone outed Frayne.

Aram?

I already called. He's not picking up.

♪ There's no turning back ♪

Oh, finally!

Oh.

Uh, hello.

The Colonel here lost his hearing as a child.

Nasty case of meningitis.

The Colonel. The man who runs Wellstone is deaf?

Indeed. The head of the company that provides translation

needs a translator to be understood. In this case, you. So, please, sit.

♪ How long ♪

♪ How long ♪

♪ How long will we last? ♪

You prevented the arrest of one of my translators.

You had him inform his contact

that there was a problem in the company you could solve.

Yes. You have a mole.

Tell him he has a leak that puts us both at risk.

No. Impossible.

It's why Mr. Frayne was nearly pinched and why the FBI knew where to find him.

- There is no leak. - There is a mole.

And he works for the FBI.

He led them to Frayne, which means he can lead them to you.

Now, you can be stubborn about it and wait for the feds to show up,

or you can do exactly as I say and live happily ever after.

- You know who the mole is? - Yes.

He's a federal agent working undercover as an interpreter.

♪ How long? ♪

♪ There's no turning back ♪

What do you want me to do?

First, delete my file now, before the feds arrive.

Second, in exchange for giving you a way out, a new identity, I want a name.

Last week, a woman using the name Carolyn Givens hired Wellstone.

I want to know who she met with.

♪ How long ♪

♪ How long will we last? ♪

I can read.

Wait. The mole. I need his name.

Why? It's over. He won.

Killing him won't change the fact that you need to come with me now.

I need to know a name.

If you don't give me one, I'll kill him.

Either because he's the mole...

or to set an example of what happens when you betray me.

Normally, I'm a big believer in example-setting.

But I specifically requested your newest interpreter

because the leaks pre-date his employment at Wellstone.

He's not the mole.

And we need to go now.

Okay, what do you mean he recorded the conversation?

Evidently, Reddington was wearing a wire.

One we'll tell the Justice Department that you were wearing.

- You think we can make a case? - I do.

A lot of Wellstone employees and clients will go to prison.

Not the owner.

Mr. Reddington promised the Colonel he'd help him escape

for the name of the person Liz met with.

- You didn't see his name? - I didn't.

Adin Markovic. He's a Bosnian bounty hunter.

Keen used Wellstone to hire him.

- Reddington told you the name? Why? - Because we're on the same team.

He knows we have to work together to bring Keen home safely.

Adin Markovic, this bounty hunter, we'll see what we can find on him.

Agent Park.

I spoke with the AUSA.

There's been a development involving your friend's death.

It appears Dieterle is missing.

Will you help?

Alina, you promised me you wouldn't do anything to Dieterle. I need to know.

Did you break that promise?

No, sir.

Mr. Cooper.

Mr. Cooper, um, about this drive you wanted me to decrypt. Uh...

I can't. I reached out to a friend at the NSA.

- Do you trust him? - I do.

Because if he tells anyone about this, his life could be in jeopardy.

Keep me posted.

Yes, sir.

Raymond.

You have to tell Paula he's not coming.

Oh...

He gets her hopes up and I have to be the one to dash them.

Glen at his finest.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

You came!

I brought the scotcheroos...

Hello!

Oh. You must be Paula.

Glen told me so much about you.

But, oh my gosh, you're even more beautiful than he described.

Glen, he was one of the good ones.

One of the unusual ones, for sure.

But, you know, that guy could always brighten my day.

I remember when we were recording our third album,

Johnny had written this great progression. He had a bit of melody.

And it was up to me to come up with the lyric and I couldn't do it.

I tried and tried and I was stuck.

I couldn't come up with anything. I remember Glen came over.

We went out for chili dogs, of course.

And I just broke down about this song.

I told him, "I don't know what to do. This is super important.

If we don't have a hit with this album, the label's gonna drop us."

Glen put his hand on my arm, and looked me dead in the eye, and he said:

"Hey, if this is it, this is it."

And boom, there it was.

That lyric in that song.

I mean...

This is what Glen did.

He was like a muse to me.

And I loved him.

But he wouldn't want us bawling all over the place.

He'd want us to have a good time.

Like Glen used to say, "We're not here for a long time,

we're here for a good time."

Raise a glass, or a chicken wing...

whatever you got, because tonight we celebrate my muse.

Tonight, we celebrate Jelly Bean and his big old heart.

♪ There's a party down on the corner ♪

♪ Do you want to go? ♪

♪ They got rhythm, a little blues ♪

♪ And a whole lot of soul ♪

♪ I don't care what you've got to say ♪

♪ You're comin' with me anyway ♪

♪ We're not here for a long time ♪

- What are you doing? - Oh, my goodness.

I can't believe you came.

- Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Lewis. - Didn't hurt a bit.

- What happened? What changed your mind? - You did.

Mr. Reddington.

- You spoke to Jerry. - Yeah.

I gotta know, because I can't get my head around it.

Why in the world is Raymond Reddington running errands for a DMV desk clerk?

Regional manager.

Yeah, but why is this guy so special

that the world's most wanted fugitive is arranging his memorial service?

People often hide from me. Glen was good at finding them.

I didn't ask you what he did. I asked what made him special.

That's a bit more complicated.

I'm sure it is.

I'm sure it's incredibly complicated, and weird and strange.

- But... I like weird and strange. - Ah.

You said I could ask for any favor. That's the favor.

You want me to tell you about how weird and strange Glen was?

I want to hear your eulogy. I want Raymond Reddington to tell me

what was weird, and strange, and beautiful

about the regional manager of the Rockville DMV.

You know who I am. I can do some very big favors.

Trust me, I thought about asking you

to scare the bejesus out of my pal Bruce Hornsby.

That'd have been good. But the truth is,

you can't do a bigger favor than revealing somebody's heart and soul.

No. I don't suppose you can.

Yeah. I did my part. I gave my eulogy.

And in exchange, I'd like to hear your version.

Mr. Lewis. Big fan.

Thanks.

What? What is that?

The remains of a Great Dane. We're friends with a vet.

He works at a shelter where they cremate pets who have to be put down.

But I told you I won't steal his ashes.

And I know you well enough to know that in the end you probably would.

I'm sorry, but what's going on with all the beans, and the baggies and the ashes?

I'll explain everything on the way.

♪ Let's have a good time ♪

Okay.

Here we are.

- Glen. - Right.

Glen.

Glen was...

so many different things.

A son.

A civil servant.

Proud member of the Spare Me bowling team.

Two-time runner-up at the Southern Regional Tournament.

And a great, a truly great tracker.

But he was...

Oh, brother.

He was a lot more than that.

Glen was...

infuriating.

Insulting.

Just so maddening.

He was a hedonist, chauvinist, a liar, a cheat,

but there was one thing... Glen was not.

And that's afraid.

Glen was... not afraid.

He wasn't afraid of judgment, of being wrong.

He wasn't afraid of friendship or romance.

A bad joke. A good laugh.

He was never afraid of a good time, or bad timing...

or consequences...

or of an impossible task...

or any kind of danger.

And he certainly wasn't afraid of me, ever.

No matter how hard or unfair life was to Glen...

Glen loved life back.

He embraced it without reservation, regret, or remorse.

And that is...

rare.

I wish...

I wish more people were unafraid like Glen.

It's the thing about him I'll miss the most.

And I hope it'll be some time before...

all my memories of him...

start to fade.