All language subtitles for Reacher.S04E01.1080p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta[EZTVx.to]

Grew up in the military,
worked in the military.

Always told where to go, when to be there.

I wanted to see my country
on my own terms.

Motels, cash, fake names, travel light.

Mostly, I take buses or hitchhike.
You get used to it.

Command at
the 110th Special Investigations Unit

of the Military Police.

It's not just 'cause
you need to put things right.

And it's not because
you love the little guy.

It's 'cause you hate the big guy.

You hate the smug sons of bitches

who think they can just
get away with things.

You just figured that out?

Hundred thousand years ago,

there were people who stayed
by the campfire,

and people who wandered.

I'm pretty sure I'm a direct descendant
of the wandering type.

It's just who I am.

Whiz wit.

Northbound train now boarding.

Service continues to Ellsworth-Federal,

Spring Garden, City Hall and beyond.

I need to see your hands.

May I sit next to you?

Leave me alone.

I can't do that.

Go away.

There's only a few people on the train.

If you waited till rush hour,
your plan would be more effective.

Just... one hand.

Just take out one hand.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

What you have in there is very dangerous.

The less contact
you have with it, the better.

Easy.

Don't do anything you can't undo.

Show me one hand.

Please.

Thank you.

Now...

show me what you have.

I need to see it.

Please.

Go away.

I can't do that.

- Why?
- Because I'm involved now.

Whatever you're in, I'm in it now, too.

Just...

take it out of the bag.

That's better than
the bomb I thought you had.

You don't have a problem with me.

You don't even know me.

It's over.

It's all over.

What is?

Just talk to me.

I can help you.

I'm a cop.

You're a cop?

No one can help me now.

Oh, shit, man!

Mr. Reacher, Detective Shaun Docherty.

This is my partner Detective Tamara Green.

We have a few questions for you.

Shouldn't take too long if you're honest
and cooperative.

Easy enough, right?

Right? So...

Okay, you, uh,

you had a passport on you,
but no driver's license.

No answer for that?

It wasn't a question.

Where do you currently live?

What's the address of this building?

- Why?
- It's where I'm currently living.

Where's your home, asshole?

Don't have one.

So you're homeless.

Now I see why you're a detective.

Motherfucker!

You think I haven't
dealt with wiseasses before?

Okay, okay. Let's try this.

Where were you before the subway, Reacher?

The Uptown on Frankfort.

Listening to music.

Then you went straight to the subway.

No. Then, I got a cheesesteak.

You ate a cheesesteak at 2:00 a.m.?

- I'm in Philly.
- Why?

'Cause they taste good.

Why... Jesus tap-dancing Christ.

Why are you in Philadelphia?
'Cause you don't sound like

- you're from here.
- Phillies have a kid

who consistently throws over 100.

Wanted to see him play
before he blows his arm out.

Oh, but instead,
you blow a woman's brains out.

I didn't kill her. I don't even know her.

The only reason I approached her
is 'cause she had several

of the behavioral indicators
of a suicide bomber.

Like what?

You don't know them?

Since 9/11,
every city cop in America knows them.

How do you know them?
Were they trivia questions

on the back of a creatine box?

I was an MP.

And I saw a nervous woman, sweating,

fidgeting, mumbling, possibly praying,
looking straight ahead.

So you don't have to see
the people you're about to kill.

Wearing a heavy coat for the time
of year to hide explosives.

Had a large bag.
She was checking all the boxes.

Including the one
where she kills nobody except herself.

You know what I think?

Stupid things?

I think you had something to do with it.

There were witnesses
on the train. Ask them.

- They saw what happened.
- We did. They didn't.

Some of them were asleep,
others weren't looking.

Four witnesses and no one saw anything?

- Three.
- There were four.

A small Hispanic woman in her 40s,
Black man in his 30s,

both tired, both coming off a night shift.

Balkan immigrant, mid-20s.

How the hell do you know
he was a Balkan immigrant?

Coloring, height.

People from that region
are taller on average.

He was putting ketchup on his pizza,
which originated in Albania,

and he was wearing a Colorado State
shirt that was spelled with all "O's."

Irregular shirts are given to charities,
and he was wearing whatever

hand-out fit. So, Balkan.

Immigrant.

Okay, Sherlock Has-No-Holmes,
that's three. You said four.

Caucasian male. Mid-50s.

Far end of the car. Tan pants. Golf shirt.

There was no one there like that.

Then he took off in the confusion.

Guns, dead bodies, lots of reasons to run.

Maybe he told his wife
he was away on business,

but he was taking the train
to see his girlfriend.

I don't know. Who gives a shit?
But he was there.

Did you kill Anna Merrick?
Was that your gun?

What is this, good cop, dumb cop?

She was killed with a .357 Magnum.

I don't have a drop of blood on me
and I'd have gun residue up to my wrist.

But when I got here,
you followed me into the bathroom

and let me wash my hands.

You wouldn't have done that
if you thought I shot this woman.

You would have fingerprinted
and mirandized me.

You're stalling.

You're right. We're holding onto you
because we got a call

some other people want
to ask you some questions.

Feds from D.C.

How do you know that?

If it was FBI,
they'd be questioning me already

'cause they have a branch office
here downtown.

It's got to be folks up from D.C.

CIA, DEA, DOD,
anyone else from the alphabet gang.

Turns out our suicide worked
for the federal government.

Somehow, that makes this all
a bit more complicated,

so I'm asking you nicely,
if you could stay a while longer

until they get here
and things are cleared up.

I'll stay because
the Feds might know something

about why she killed herself,
and I want to know.

You said
you didn't know the victim.

Why do you care?

'Cause she was desperate
and needed help...

and I didn't help her.

Okay. So we wait a while.

As for all this, you were a cop.

You know we had to poke around,

even though we know
you had nothing to do with what happened.

Well, yeah, maybe not directly, but...

That lady wasn't doing anything
until you ran up on her,

got her all worked up enough
to off herself.

Seen a few mass-transit suicides.

People jump in front of trains.

Not one has popped their top
on one of 'em.

Sometimes people on the edge
get pushed over that edge.

Maybe you were the pusher.

And you'll stay here
because I'm telling you to stay.

You really think
you can make me do anything?

Onions, peppers,

- extra cheese.
- For what?

My cheesesteak.

It's gonna be a while.

It's almost 5:00 a.m.

I'm in Philly.

It's not a bad breakfast.

Told ya.

What the hell is that?

That's Gritty.

Flyers mascot?

- Not a hockey guy.
- Missing out.

Perfect blend of speed,
skill and physicality.

Two guys got beef, they battle it out.

No politics, no bullshit.

Well...

some bullshit.

Don't be shitty to my Gritty.

So who'd you piss off?

- What do you mean?
- Well, you're smart.

Clearly smarter than your partner,

but you're stuck on the night shift,
tasked with suicides.

That's incident reports, not police work.

So, who'd you piss off?

Mind your business.

That's Anna's brother Jacob.

Cop from Jersey.

He's carrying himself
like someone still in shock.

Shoulders down and
rolled forward, slouched.

The primal instinct to protect yourself.

It doesn't work.

Feds will be here in a couple of minutes.

Finish up.

You don't seem very concerned
that we're here to question you.

I was already questioned by Philly P.D.

Did pretty well.

Figured I'll only do better this time.

So what agency you fellas with?

What are your names?

Okay.

I'll call you Snap, Crackle and Pop.

So what drags a bunch of B-Team boys
out to Philly?

What makes you think we're the B-Team?

Pulled out of bed to drive almost
three hours in the middle of the night

to question somebody
you know wasn't involved in a shooting

'cause city cops already filled you in.

You're here
so your bosses can put a little check

in a little box that says you interviewed
the last person to talk to Anna Merrick.

If you had the juice to say no,
you'd still be under your quilts.

B-Team.

Maybe C.

So, I want to know
why the government's so interested

in one of its employees killing herself.

The way this works, see,
is you answer our questions.

Why did you talk to Anna Merrick?

I thought she was gonna blow up the train.

You were military, Mr. Reacher,
highly decorated,

but you left on not the best of terms.

Any issues with the Army
or the government?

Tons.

Enough to do something about it?

- Like what?
- Treason.

Not really my style.

Did you receive anything from Anna?

Receive what?

Maybe she gave you something,
and you ditched it,

gonna go back for it later.

Look, Crackle,
I was searched on the platform,

and by now,
you've already picked the subway clean.

Checked the platform,
looked under the seats,

found nothing but gum and boogers.

If I ditched anything on the train,
you would have found it by now.

What is it the government's so worried
she might've given me?

- What are you looking for?
- Once again,

we are here to ask the questions.

You're here to answer them.

Not anymore, Snap.

Brought in for murder,
out with no charges.

Better day than I had.

Not my first time, won't be my last.

Take care, Tamara.

Yup.

May I have a moment of your time?

You just took a moment of my time.

The woman who died in the subway,
did she give you anything?

So far, nothing but hassle.

Did you give it to the police?

Give what to the police?

The flash drive.

I know messenger boys when I see 'em.

So, who's your boss?

Counter if it's just coffee.

Jacob?

Yeah.

Do I know you?

No, but I'm the last person
to talk to your sister.

I'm a former cop. I can help.

You decided?

I-I think I'm... I'm good with coffee.

Counter if it's just coffee.

We won't be long.

Do you have any idea what happened?

I only know what I saw.
A distraught woman.

Two men outside jumped me
for some drive Anna was supposed to have.

You know anything about that?

- Jumped you?
- Yeah.

For a drive.

Like a... like a thumb drive?

- Apparently.
- No.

No, I-I don't know anything about it. I...

I just know that there is no way
that my sister killed herself.

I saw her do it.

I don't care what you saw.

She was a happy person.

She loved her job,

she... loved my nephew Ben.

Everything...

Everything was perfect.

She didn't look
like everything was perfect.

She looked terrified.

None of this makes any sense.

You know why
she was wearing a winter coat in summer?

No. I-I-I... I don't know.

Maybe, um...

Maybe she hid the gun in it.

Gun was in the bag.

You know where she got the firearm?

Before our dad died, he gave it to her.

Single woman living alone.
You know, he worried.

- Ben's father?
- That asshole's dead.

The prick took off as soon
as the test showed two pink lines.

A few months later,
he wrapped his car around a tree

with half a bottle
of Johnnie Walker in him.

You know, I helped raise my nephew.

Paid for his braces
when things were tough.

Bought him his first football.

He's a linebacker at, uh, Temple.

Full ride.

I don't know how I'm gonna tell him.

He doesn't know his mother's dead?

No, I can't get ahold of him.

That normal?

I guess. I mean, he's...
he's a 20-year-old kid.

You know, he's got better things
to do than to jump

when his uncle calls him
first thing in the morning.

The Philly cops said Anna worked
for the federal government.

Which part?

Army Department, Human Resources,

for some, uh, general or something.

Must be a branch
of the Commanding General,

U.S. Army, Human Resources Command.
Personnel department.

Paperwork and records.

Nothing exciting.

It was exciting to her.

Getting out of the Jersey suburbs,
moving to D.C.

I remember how proud she was when...

I'm sorry.

We were both adopted.

And we... we never fought.

Not once.

I always thought I was so lucky.

You know, out of all the kids in the world
that needed families,

I got her to be my sister.

They're back.

What? Who?

The guys who came after me
for your sister's drive.

Recognize them?

No.

- 50 bucks for your jump drive.
- Why?

You always ask questions

when someone offers you
five times the value of something?

Okay, deal.

What are you doing?

Those guys were willing to come after me

'cause they thought
Anna gave me something on the train.

- I'm gonna find out why.
- Why do you care?

Your sister's involved
in something big enough

that the federal government's worried,

and people are trying to work me over
on the street because of it.

So big she saw no way out of it,
so she killed herself over it.

I was the last person
that could've possibly helped her

out of whatever situation
she was stuck in,

and I didn't.

- Then I'm coming.
- No. You're in uniform.

You'll only complicate things.

Stay here, keep trying
to get in touch with your nephew.

He might know something.

I'll be back in 90 minutes.

Look what I got.

Your boss wants it,
and I want some money and answers.

You can set up a meeting,
or you can try and take it,

and I can kick your asses again.

Either option's fine with me.

Thank you for meeting with me.

It was my idea.

Yeah, but after my cousins
crossed the line with you,

I lost any hope we'd ever speak.

So, thank you
for not holding their behavior against me.

They could be very protective
of me and their aunt.

My mother, Amisha Hoth.

I'm Lila.

Reacher.

Your mother?

She had me at 19, and it's been
just the two of us since then.

Does she want the jump drive, too,
or just you?

Walk with me, I'll explain everything.

Did you know they call this place
the City of Brotherly Love?

I like that.

Their fans throw snowballs at Santa Claus.

I don't understand.

It doesn't matter.

Look, I just want to know what's going on.

Oh. Best I start at the beginning.

In the '90s,
my mother met a U.S. soldier named John.

He was in Delta Force.

She never learned his last name,
but they had an affair,

and you're basically walking
with the result of that union.

Okay.

You're also walking
with a very sick person.

I have leukemia.

The bruises on your arm?

My doctors say
I need a bone marrow transplant,

but matches are hard to come by.

And when you're mixed-race,
well, it's near impossible.

What about your mother?

Kidney disease, so, she can't donate.

So your only hope is finding John?

Yeah.

I only know
he was stationed in Indonesia in '98.

So I've contacted the Army,
veterans groups, military subreddits.

Nothing worked.

I eventually called the Pentagon, but just
got passed from department to department

until I finally got in touch
with the most wonderful woman

who worked in human resources.

Anna Merrick.

She was adopted,
so she understood the frustration

of not knowing one's
full biological history.

She worried if her son ever got sick,
she wouldn't know enough to help him.

She promised to do all she could
to find my father, and she did.

Someone important.

You've looked on the drive?

No, but the Feds wouldn't have been
asking about it

unless it was someone important.

Congressman John Sampson,

Representative from North Carolina.

You know him?

Not really. Seen his name in the news.

The frontrunner
to be his party's presidential nominee.

And his odds are good.

Let me guess. He didn't want to talk.

None of my messages were returned.

So you're gonna blackmail him
with information

Anna stole for you from the Pentagon.

- That's what's on the drive.
- I know it's distasteful,

but I'm 29 years old, Reacher.

I don't want to die.

Anna had documents proving Sampson
was in Indonesia when I was conceived.

And along with my mother's testimony,

well, I'm hoping
that creates enough public pressure

to get him to take a DNA test.

And if he's a match,
it would be political suicide

for him not to donate his bone marrow
to his own child, right?

Why did Anna want to meet in Philadelphia?

She said D.C. was the most surveilled city
in the world,

and technically, she was committing
espionage by giving me these files.

I was supposed to meet her at my hotel,
but, of course, she never showed up.

She killed herself.

Yeah. I saw the news.

Why?

I wish I knew.

But it kills me if what I asked of her
somehow led to it.

Look, um, I don't have much...

but you can have all of it
for the drive.

I'm sorry to get your hopes up.

There's nothing on this.

It's nothing but sketches.

Check again.

I got it from an art student.

That's all there is.

I didn't know your situation.

I'm a former investigator.

It's my nature to want information.

Then the police must have the drive.

Maybe.

But if they did,
the Feds wouldn't have been asking

if Anna gave it to me this morning.

Yeah, I-I understand.

I'm-I'm staying at The Carter Hotel
on 10th Street

until Anna's funeral is arranged.

I mean, she was a friend
who died helping me.

It's the least I could do.

Here's my cell and my room number.

Uh, thumb drive...

If you find anything, please.

What makes you think I'll keep looking?

Like you said,
you're a former investigator.

It's in your nature to want information.

Good luck, Lila.

I gave her $40.

It's been over an hour.
She-she was getting pissed.

How'd your nephew take the news?

I didn't track him down yet.

What about you? What about...
did you find anything?

Yeah. Seems your sister
may have stolen some confidential

albeit pretty benign data
about Congressman John Sampson

to help a woman prove he was her father.

What else?

That's it.

John Sampson?

John Sampson.

Where you going?

I'm gonna find out all I can
about John Sampson.

Not my business, but the federal
government's looking into this.

What do you think a solo cop
from a small town in Jersey's gonna do?

I have no idea.

But my sister died because she was trying
to help somebody find their father.

That is exactly who Anna was.

She never let anyone down,
and I'm not gonna let her down.

Okay.

Let's go.

You're coming?

I'm good at not letting people
get away with things.

Hey! What are you doing?

Taking our files.

Your files are in D.C.

- My desk is right here.
- Easy, killer.

They're taking over
the Anna Merrick suicide.

What's there to take over?
The case ended when the woman died.

The files, please, Detective.

The captain signed off on it.

- Assholes.
- Why the hell do you care?

Machine fucked you sideways,
you still didn't learn?

Punch in, punch out,
hope the phone doesn't ring in between.

It's about the income, not the outcome.

I know.

But still.

Touching my shit.

No scandals,

no black marks.

No politician's this clean.

Why are you printing them?

It's information on the guy.

It's superficial horseshit.

It... it's background.

I need his military data.

Delta Force records would be confidential,
but there could be government documents

that speak generally to overseas missions
Sampson might have been involved in.

Could shed some light on who this guy is.

Excuse me.

Where are your military archives?

Oh, like old stuff?
Old stuff's in the basement.

Guess I'm headed to the basement
to look for "old stuff."

Give me the drive.

No.

We need to go.

Lila Hoth's in trouble.

A coal bin?

- I'm a cop! You can't do shit like that.
- Shut up.

Please leave
a message after the tone.

Lila, it's Reacher.

Someone just took a run at me,
they might be coming after you.

Get out of your hotel.

- How much further?
- A couple minutes.

I'm calling again.

- They're at the top floors.
- Room 506.

Take the west stairs.

Lila!

Stay there!

Oh, shit.

What?

Get back inside.

You okay?

I think so.

I think my nose is broken.

Cops will be here any minute.

- Let's move.
- But we're the good guys.

You want to answer questions
about why you're here?

Blackmailing's a crime
no matter how good the reason.

- Where's your family?
- Getting food.

I'll call and tell them
not to come back here.

Do it after you get dressed.
We got to move, now.

Keep your heads down.

- Lose the washcloth.
- It's bleeding.

Menus.

There'll be more.

Hotel staff will be able to describe you.

Go buy new clothes.
Grays, dark blues, muted colors.

Why?

'Cause you don't want to stand out.

And a woman like you
stands out enough as it is.

Go see your mom.

Get a shit-box, all-cash motel.

Won't be nice, but it'll be safe.

Where are you going?

I got to go see a cop.

No, no, that's fine. It is.
Okay, all right.

When he gets back,
you got to have him call me.

This is really, really important, okay?

Thank you.

One of Ben's frat brothers

says a day and a half ago,
he left a bar with some gorgeous woman

and he hasn't returned to campus yet.

I'm gonna let him have his fun.

His whole world's about
to get rocked soon when I talk to him.

- Or when he sees it on the news.
- There she is.

What the fuck now?

- You were waiting for me?
- Need to ask you something.

Detective Tamara Green.

Sorry about your sister.

Look, I just punched out.

You should've come in when I was still
getting paid to deal with the public.

Wouldn't have. Docherty doesn't like me.

Would've talked you out
of doing me a favor.

That old man couldn't talk me out of shit.

What do you want?

Has a jump drive turned up
since I left this morning?

Now you sound like the Feds.

They were looking for it, too.

First thing they asked for.

I'm-a tell you the same thing I told them.

I inventoried all the evidence and
personal effects before they got there,

and there was no flash drive.

Why? What's on it?

Don't know.

But people think Anna Merrick gave me one.

Two people tried to kill me over it.

Since I saw you this morning?

Busy day.

One came at me at a library,
one at a hotel.

What happened to those people?

They got away.

Is there any chance
that the Feds maybe said

- anything about why they...
- Look,

all I know is a woman killed herself
on one of my subways.

She was important enough that the Feds
officially took over the matter.

Now you say people coming after you
for some jump drive?

And I think you may have done
some bad shit to them.

Like I said, they got away.

Your knuckle's all jacked up,
your face is bruised

and you got dry blood behind your ear.

Blood's not mine.

Know what? Not my monkeys, not my circus.

I deal with OD'ing junkies
and Wawa smash-and-grabs.

You want to run around
like a cowboy, go ahead.

I'm-a run out five years
and collect my pension.

I'm coming off a double night.

I'm gonna head home,
watch SportsCenter and hit the sack.

You need extra help? You got Barney Fife.

Once again, sorry for your loss.

Now what?

We talk to Sampson.

- You're driving.
- To D.C.?

- Just a day or two.
- No, no, I can't take the cruiser.

I'll get in trouble.

I got to bring it back to Jersey.

There's a 6:00 p.m. train to D.C.
every night from Penn Station.

I'll meet you there.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

We'd like to talk to you.

Strangers in suits who want to talk
in the middle of the day?

You guys handing out The Watchtower?

Tranq gun?

Enough to take down a gorilla.

We'll see.

Take him.

No point in trying to fight, Mr. Reacher.

The drug is al...

Come on.