Original subtitles

In the criminal justice system,

sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.

In New York City, the dedicated detectives

who investigate these vicious felonies

are members of an elite squad

known as the Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

Tasha, hold on tight to your sister.

Smile for daddy.

Your girls are beautiful.

Thanks. It's their first time here.

Timmy! Don't get off until it stops!

Tasha? Nicki?

Look, girls, don't play games.

Girls, where are you?

Girls!

Hurry, Nicki!

Tasha! You stop right now!

Tasha! Wait, please.

Someone call 911!

I didn't see her! I swear to God I didn't see her.

Tasha!

You her dad?

Oh, God, I'm so sorry.

Let's go. I'm sorry.

Tasha!

Hey, mister,

where you going?

Two girls. Tasha and Lola Wright.

Hit by a cab.

Driver saw dad fleeing the scene with another daughter.

What kind of father runs out on his injured kids?

Maybe one with an open warrant.

Doesn't want to get picked up.

How are the girls?

Tasha the 12-year-old's got a concussion.

A couple of scrapes and bruises.

She cushioned baby Lola's fall.

Little one's got no injuries.

Okay. Thanks.

Hey, Tasha. My name's Olivia.

This is Elliot.

I want to help you find your dad.

He's not my father. My dad's a soldier.

He died in Iraq.

Then who was the man in the park?

I don't know his name.

Why were you there with him?

He took us from New Orleans.

The water flooded our house.

Mama and Grandma drowned.

Hurricane Katrina.

We held onto the roof.

The man came in a boat.

He saved our lives.

He said he was our new daddy.

Then he brought you to New York.

He said he'd take care of us.

That we were his girls now.

Where are you staying?

In a basement.

We never went outside before today.

Has he ever hurt you? No.

But he looks at me funny.

And he's always hugging Nicki.

Has he ever hurt Nicki?

Not until last night.

He made her sleep in his bed.

I heard her crying.

Please save my sister.

When do I get to see my sister?

Well, we're gonna talk a little bit first,

and then we'll take you to see Lola.

Hey, John. This is Tasha Wright.

John's gonna get you settled, okay?

Come on.

The perp has got to know that we're talking to Tasha.

He could panic and kill the sister.

He's got nothing to worry about.

He knows Tasha doesn't know his name or where he lives.

He can just stay put and keep abusing Nicki.

Olivia, Morales wants you

to review the geographic cues

before you start

interviewing Tasha.

Hey, I checked

with the Center for Missing and Exploited Children.

2,300 kids missing since Katrina.

The Wright girls aren't on the list.

Well, the parents are dead.

Relatives scattered in shelters.

They're perfect prey for a pedophile.

And there's lots of them.

4,500 sex offenders disappeared after Katrina.

There's no telling how many kids they've taken.

Like the hundreds of kids

who were snatched after the tsunami.

Those pervs are ghosts until they hit again.

No one knows your past. You can start a new life.

Abuse more children.

I bet they can't believe their luck.

Come here.

Captain, hospital called.

Tasha and Lola's rape kits, they're negative.

I'm not surprised. Nicki's the right age.

Pedophiles usually go for prepubescent girls.

So why abduct all three?

He did tell them to call him "daddy."

Maybe he's living some kind of fantasy.

Devoted father of three beautiful daughters.

But Tasha didn't fall for it.

Soon as he moves in on Nicki,

Tasha runs away.

Which probably pissed him off.

Nicki's in a lot of danger.

Olivia's set with her earpiece.

We're good to go.

Hey, sweetie.

Okay. So, Tasha.

Tell me how you got to the park.

We took the bus.

Was it a short ride or a long ride?

About an hour.

That's too far for a trip

from the East or West Side.

They must've come from south of the park or uptown.

Hour's bus ride gives us everything between

North Harlem and the Village.

Ask about the architecture.

So when you were at the bus stop today,

what did you see?

Lots of buildings.

Can you tell me what they looked like?

Some were tall. Some were little.

And brown with big stairs.

Brownstones. Not a lot of those downtown.

Gotta be Harlem.

Does the man live in one of the brown ones?

Yeah. We lived under the stairs.

So, Tasha, when you were outside the house today

what did you see?

A church. I asked the man if we could go there.

Mama always takes us to church on Sunday.

And what else was near the house?

A school.

Okay. Can you describe it for me?

I never saw it.

I just heard the bells and kids playing.

There are hundreds of churches in Harlem.

Dozens of schools.

That target area will take us days to canvass.

Nicki doesn't have that much time.

We gotta jog Tasha's memory.

Get her on the street. Start with the churches.

Tasha, does it look like this?

Too old. It was newer.

What about this one?

It's kind of the same.

But it didn't have stained glass.

Not this one.

This isn't working.

They gotta keep going.

The next church could be the one.

And the next minute Nicki could be dead.

No, not this one.

No.

Okay. Come on.

No.

They've been out there for five hours.

This is a waste of time.

You've got a better idea?

We're never gonna find her.

Yeah, we will, honey. We just gotta keep looking.

We struck out. Need the next location.

Pack it in.

Captain, we can't quit now.

Bring Tasha back to the house. We've got a new plan.

We're going to the media.

Public appeal on the TV news.

Great idea. Kidnapper sees that, Nicki's dead.

Not if we report an unidentified girl

was hit by a taxi.

She's in a coma. We're looking for her family.

Captain, even if the perp doesn't get raised up,

what do we get out of it?

Pictures. We ask everybody at the carousel

to give us their film.

Maybe we get a photo of the perp that Tasha can I.D.

You're counting on the press to run a fake story?

We won't tell 'em it's fake.

DCPI has got the press conference set up.

We're gonna need a picture of Tasha.

A real heartbreaker.

If you were at the carousel today,

please contact our office at the number on your screen.

We'll send an officer to borrow your photographs and video.

Please help us to find this little girl's family.

She may not make it and her parents should be with her.

Thank you.

He's laying it on with a trowel.

Excuse me?

Jackson Zane. From The Ledger.

I just got handed the police beat.

Pretty cynical for a new guy.

I'm new, not naive.

Cute kid. Tragic accident.

Whole dog and pony show

just in time for the 11:00 news.

What's the real story?

Just what my captain said.

Need to find the girl's parents.

Hmm. Nobody got home from the park

and realized they were short a kid?

I guess not.

You could cut me a break.

Make me look good to my new boss.

But then my boss would

ship me out to Sheepshead Bay.

What are you really looking for, detective?

Carousel photos.

I got your page. You've been working all night?

Yeah, but it was worth it.

Dozens of family photos came in.

Then we hit the jackpot. Video.

Hey.

Lady was filming her kid on the carousel.

We got a full 360 of the crowd.

And a lot of the kids.

Pause it.

That's Lola, Tasha.

And that's gotta be Nicki.

Dirtbag's in here somewhere.

Morning. We didn't have time

to get her dressed at the children's center.

I'm sleepy.

Oh, sweetheart, I know you are.

But come here. I want you to have a seat

and take a really good look

and see if you can find the man, okay?

Come on.

There.

It's him.

Okay. Find all the shots he's in.

I'll put 'em on a disk

in case you need to print copies later.

Fin will bring in the taxi driver.

His ID will corroborate Tasha's.

Put down the camera.

You can't cover this up!

Put down the camera.

You lied to me.

Throw his ass in the cage. Give me the camera.

A source at the hospital said the girl left with you.

It's gonna make a great headline...

"NYPD Fakes Coma Girl Tragedy."

Hold on. Let him go. Don't do this.

You've got nothing coming. I'm running the story.

You're risking a child's life.

Yesterday you said she was dying.

Why should I believe you now?

Because we'll give you an exclusive

on an even bigger story.

Bigger than the one I just got?

Pulitzer material.

Screw me over and I will spend the rest of my career

crawling so far up your asses--

Well, we wouldn't want that.

Early edition deadline is at 11:00 p.m.

You call me by 9:00 or "Coma Girl" runs.

We're gonna need a couple hundred copies

of the perp's photo.

Plus enough bodies to canvass every brownstone in Harlem.

I got something else you should check out.

I called FEMA. There's only one

Katrina relief center in New York City.

FEMA's $2,000 debit card is pretty hard to pass up.

More than 4,000 people displaced by Katrina

have come to New York. And we're helping

everyone who walks through the door.

Did you help him?

Yes. I recognize the denim jacket he's wearing.

It was my husband's.

I brought it in for the clothing drive.

Do you remember his name?

Norman. Forman. Something like that.

I'll check my files.

He was a lovely man.

He just asked for food, clothing, and job referrals.

He refused FEMA funds. He didn't want charity.

He didn't want to give out his social security number.

Did he request housing?

I think he was staying with friends.

Here it is. Clark Corman.

You have an address?

No. But we did give him a prepaid cell phone

to help him find work.

So call him. Tell him to come down.

What should I say if he asks why?

Just tell him that you've got a great job for him.

Handyman at a youth center.

Munch ran the name Clark Corman through NCIC

and all the Louisiana databases. Nothing.

Probably an alias.

Anything on the canvass?

Not yet.

There he is.

No Nicki.

All right. We'll follow him home.

How about I go in?

I say I'm from the youth center.

Get his address.

All right. Call me.

We'll check his place out.

Detective. I need to talk to you.

My editor wants me to stay on your tail

till I get that exclusive.

Go away.

Oh, son of a bitch.

Police! Corman, hands on the railing.

- Don't shoot, don't shoot! - Hands on the railing.

Where's the girl?

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

Sure you don't, Daddy. Now where's Nicki?

I don't know any Nicki.

You have no idea what you've done.

Hey. I'm sorry.

You blew our surveillance on a child abductor.

An eight-year-old girl is out there somewhere,

maybe dying because of you.

I thought you were gaming me. What can I do?

Pray that he talks.

You've made a mistake.

God hasn't blessed me with children.

So why'd you take girls' clothing

from Hurricane Help?

Those good folks must have me confused with someone else.

So many of us lost everything we owned.

Where have you been staying in New York?

I don't really see how that concerns you.

Hmph. Hey.

You're starting to sweat. You nervous?

Hardly. Hmm.

I've been through hell.

Clung to a tree all night while bodies floated by.

You don't scare me.

I know my rights.

I've committed no crime. You can't keep me here.

I'd like to see my lawyer now.

He said the magic words.

And while we wait for Legal Aid

to waltz Mr. Corman out the door,

God only knows where Nicki is

or what shape she's in.

Do you think she's still alive?

He's antsy. He's sweating.

If he'd hidden the body, he'd be calm.

Casey, you've gotta help us out here

'cause I'm not cutting this guy loose.

Print him.

Counselor, without grounds to arrest

we need a court order to compel his fingerprints.

Do you think he's knows that?

Nicki's alone. She could be hurt.

Why's it taking so long to get the prints back?

Well, New Orleans' court system

was annihilated by Katrina.

Files lost. Evidence destroyed.

It's total chaos.

Got 'em. Corman's real name is Alvin Dutch.

He did a hard ten in Angola for kiddie rape.

He got out six months ago.

He's listed as a high risk sex-offender.

And parole lost track of him in the flood.

The guy I spoke to says

they've been kicking down doors

looking for him and 270 other most wanteds.

They find any so far?

Seven in a shelter on Cape Cod.

Does Mr. Dutch have any family or friends up here?

None that they know about.

Child molestation is a capital offense in Louisiana.

I'm gonna call the DA down there.

Start working a deal. He gives us Nicki.

He dodges the needle.

Get Tasha ready for a line up.

Your prisoner's really sick.

He's got a high fever. EMS on the way?

They should be here in a minute.

His breathing's shallow.

- What's wrong with him? - Is he faking?

Not with a fever like this.

35-year-old male with acute onset of fever

and respiratory distress.

He's diaphoretic and tachycardic.

Start him on O2, five liters.

Oh! We've gotta move him now.

One, two, three.

How is he?

Decompensated. Going into shock.

Look. It's been 12 hours since we picked him up.

That little girl could be running out of air.

We've gotta talk to him.

You can't. He's unconscious.

He was fine 12 hours ago. What happened?

I don't know. We're running tests.

I'll page you as soon as he's lucid.

I'll wait. Why don't you go back?

I want to be here when he comes to.

I'll see what I can find on Alvin Dutch.

Olivia. Your captain filled me in.

- I think I can help. - How?

I ran Alvin Dutch's name past a buddy of mine

at The Ledger's New Orleans bureau.

He found one of Dutch's old cellmates

at a shelter in Baton Rouge.

Thanks. I'll have

the Louisiana State Police interview him for us.

I thought you'd rather do it yourself.

I had him brought to the wire service.

I got you a teleconference hookup.

Clayton, did Alvin Dutch

ever talk to you about his family?

Only to cuss 'em out for cutting him off.

What about here in New York City?

He ever mention knowing anyone?

Yeah. Come to think of it.

You want to give us a name?

What's in it for me?

Save a child's life. It's good karma.

I was thinking more about cash.

We could arrange an award.

Not saying anything until you do.

Give him 1,000 bucks. That do it?

He has a great aunt Goldie.

Used to make him fruitcake at Christmas.

Hard as a brick.

Remember her last name?

Prioleaux.

On account I had a girlfriend by that name.

Of course, she was white.

Yeah? You remember where the aunt lived?

Somewheres up in Harlem, I think.

Shame on Alvin.

Coming into town and not coming to visit me.

Well, how about phone calls or letters?

I haven't heard from him in years.

Do you have access to the basement apartment?

No, that's rented out to a nice young couple.

The Johnsons.

Would you mind if I take a look around?

Be my guest.

Does Alvin have any other family in town?

Lord, no. Most of his family

are diehard New Orleanians.

Even that hurricane couldn't get them to budge.

What did they call that storm?

Katrina.

Is that it? Hmm.

Nothing.

Okay. Miss Goldie, thank you so much.

You call us if you can think of anything, okay?

I just did. Camille. Not Katrina.

Camille was the name of that storm.

Miss Goldie, what's the president's name?

Oh, Kennedy of course. I voted for him.

And when was the last time you saw your nephew Alvin?

Alvin? Hmm. Let me think.

Um... last week.

You said it'd been years.

No, he was here just the other day.

He brought those beautiful girls to visit.

The girls were here?

They're moving in downstairs.

Alvin's busy fixing up the basement.

Nicki.

She's burning up. We gotta get her to a hospital.

She has the same symptoms as Dutch.

Oh, God. Get a portable chest and start IV Cipro.

Alvin Dutch is dead.

From what?

Anthrax.

How's Nicki?

Her fever's gone down,

and she's responding to the antibiotics.

She's gonna make a full recovery.

Good. I don't want to read about Nicki or anthrax

in The Ledger. We can't afford to panic the city.

What's the plan?

The hospital's called in the CDC.

They're setting up emergency surveillance teams

monitoring every ER in the city

for possible anthrax exposures.

They'll decide when this goes public.

Okay.

My source said Alvin Dutch died.

What's going on, Olivia?

It's not a good time.

Alvin Dutch is dead.

No one'll tell me how he died.

And the CDC just landed a chopper on the roof.

Jackson, I can't talk about it.

I'll find out. You know I will.

They examined Nicki. Her hymen's intact.

She wasn't raped.

Alvin didn't have a chance to get that far.

Look, if Nicki's gonna be okay,

then why did Alvin Dutch die?

He had inhalation anthrax.

Even with aggressive treatment it's 75% fatal.

Nicki's case is cutaneous through a cut on her palm.

So he breathed in the spores.

Nicki only touched them.

Exactly. We need to find out how they got infected.

Those flood waters in New Orleans

are full of toxins.

No, it can't be that.

Anthrax can only be contracted

by direct contact with dry spores.

And symptoms usually appear

within seven days of exposure.

They've been here for 10 weeks.

And Lola and Tasha are okay so far.

Which Alvin and Nicki must've contracted it

within the last 48 hours.

How did you cut your hand, Nicki?

On the glass.

What glass?

The tube that had the fairy dust inside it.

I tied a string around it.

And made a necklace for Bosha.

Who's Bosha?

My teddy. I left him at the man's house.

Can you get himfor me?

We're gonna try, sweetie.

How did the tube break?

It fell on the floor

when the man took Bosha away from me.

Then the fairy dust spilled all over.

Did you touch the fairy dust?

I tired to pick it up,

but I cut my hand.

Then the man got mad at me and pushed me away.

Then he cleaned it up.

That's when he inhaled it.

Okay, Nicki. Where did you get the fairy dust?

I don't know.

When did you make the necklace?

At the man's house.

Did the man give you the fairy dust?

I don't remember.

We can't push her anymore.

Nicki!

Tasha and Lola don't have any symptoms,

but Doc Beresford gonna check 'em out

just to make sure they're fine.

That fairy dust is still out there.

More people could be exposed.

Well, if he threw it out, it's on the street.

Or in that basement.

I'll tell the CDC we're tracking down a lead.

I found it.

He swept up the anthrax, but never emptied the dust pan.

You find anything that could identify the source?

Based on toxicity and granular size,

it's military grade.

- So it came from a lab. - Had to.

Anyway to find out where?

Possibly. Researchers who work with level three biohazards

tag their samples with chemical identifiers

so they can be traced.

How did Alvin Dutch get a hold

of weaponized anthrax?

Only job that he had was in a prison kitchen.

I'll call as soon as I have the test results.

We'll be at the precinct.

Novak talked to Louisiana Parole.

Doesn't look like Alvin Dutch

has any connection to any lab

or research facility.

Guess we gotta check with the inmates

who were in Angola with him, huh?

What the hell?

Why is everyone out of the squad?

CDC ordered a full decon of the building

in case anthrax spores were on Dutch's clothing.

So much for keeping this low profile.

DCPI's spinning the story.

Every news outlet in town's here.

You're screwing me.

It's okay.

Desk sergeant ate some bad clams.

Somebody overreacted.

Thought it was an outbreak of salmonella.

I heard that from a public information officer.

Are you gonna tell me the same thing?

We just work here.

I'm not your enemy. Whatever's going on,

the public has a right to know.

Mr. Zane, I'm gonna have to ask you

to step behind the perimeter.

I guess those bad clams are contagious.

If civilians are in danger, it's our duty to warn them.

And after 9/11, every secretary in town

opened mail wearing rubber gloves.

We don't want to start that kind of hysteria.

But he's got a point.

Building's clear. You can go back in now.

I want everybody on Alvin Dutch's movements

since he got to New York.

Find out everywhere he's been

and how the hell he found a vial of anthrax.

What the hell?

Everything's gone.

The whole decon routine was a scam.

Why, Santa, why?

My DD Fives, notebooks, all gone.

Who do we call when we've been raped?

I'll start with One P.P.

Police Commissioner's gonna hit the roof.

They got you too?

Alvin Dutch's body, the vial, all gone.

Dr. Beresford, do you have the girls?

Okay. Thanks for trying.

The feds took Tasha, Nicki, and Lola.

Wouldn't tell the hospital where.

The government can do this?

Since the Patriot Act, they can do anything.

P.C. gonna tear the feds a new one?

He tore me one. An order to forthwith

down to Federal Plaza. You too.

Captain Cragen, M.E. Warner,

your part in this investigation is over.

There's no need for your squad take any further action

regarding Alvin Dutch or his death.

What about the girls?

They're being well cared for.

And all appropriate steps are being taken

to locate next-of-kin.

Those girls have been through hell.

They need therapy and continuity

with people that they know and trust.

I appreciate your compassion, Detective Benson.

But this is a matter of national security.

You said it was a matter of public health

when you raided our squad room.

I think you owe us an explanation.

I can't give you one.

You don't have the security clearance.

All information obtained by the NYPD

or the Medical Examiner's Office is now classified.

We just keep our mouths shut

till people start dying from anthrax.

The federal government is prepared to deal with

any and all exigencies.

Sure. By calling in the black helicopters.

For once, he's not being paranoid.

This is meeting is over.

Any leak of classified material will be investigated

and punished as a federal offense.

You may go.

We just gonna bend over and take it?

We have no choice. This came from Washington.

The P.C. can't overrule the feds.

Well, what about the girls? We just forget about them

and everything that they've been through?

Yes.

This is crap.

We could have a citywide health crisis.

If the public isn't warned, they can't protect themselves.

Melinda, my hands are tied.

Olivia.

I need to talk to you and Elliot. Alone.

Before the feds cleaned me out,

I e-mailed the results of my analysis of the anthrax

to a friend at the NIH.

Got the results during our ass chewing.

Yeah? Your friend ID a source?

Louisiana BioChem Defense.

It's a research facility outside New Orleans.

They have CDC authority to work with select agents,

including ricin, ebola, smallpox, and anthrax.

What were they doing?

Bioweapons engineering.

Germ warfare.

Yes. And developingvaccines

against bioterrorweapons.

And they're not the only facility.

There were five level three bioweapons labs

in the flood zone.

What happened when Katrina hit?

They lost all their work

and more than 5,000 lab animals.

Many of them infected with lethal viruses.

One university was licensed to research anthrax

and a genetically engineered mousepox.

I don't remember seeing this on the news.

They didn't want you to.

The government claimed that every hot lab was secured

before the storm. Animals euthanized.

Samples destroyed.

I'm a scientist. I'm not throwing away

years of my research. Someone took that anthrax

from Louisiana BioChem Defense and then brought it here.

And along the way crossed paths with Alvin Dutch.

Whoever it is,

they're out there somewhere.

And God knows what else they've got.

And we can't do a damn thing

as long as the boys from DC have a gag in our mouths.

Change of heart?

Yeah.

I want to tell you a story.

What the hell were you thinking?

Nice picture.

Why'd you give itto him?

Who says I did?

Don't play games with me. Olivia, look.

The Chief of D's is in there right now.

The feds are going nuts.

They know someone from this squad

leaked that photo to The Ledger.

A lot of people had cameras in the park that day.

Jackson Zane could've gotten that photo from anybody.

Oh. Okay.

You really think that's gonna fly?

Those girls lost their mother, their home.

Everything. But they still trusted us

to make things right.

I don't ever want to read about

a classified investigation in the tabloids again.

You receive an order to comply with the feds,

you and everyone under your command obey it.

Or you won't have a command anymore.

Yes, Chief.

Olivia.

In here now.

I don't like being bossed around

by some G-man in a $1,000 suit.

But when I am told to stand down

in the interests of national security,

I bite my tongue. Captain--

Shut up. When they question me,

I don't want to lie. And they will question us all.

If they prove you leaked this,

they will take your job,

your pension, and your freedom.

I don't want to visit you in a federal lock-up, Olivia.

Dismissed.

How bad?

Well, look. Maybe it was worth it.

How?

ACS just called.

I think all this media attention spooked the feds.

They returned the girls.

We gotta go talk to them.

You have lost your mind.

Those girls are safefor now.

But what about the rest of the city?

There's anthrax out there somewhere,

and Nicki is the key to finding it.

You don't think the feds questioned her all night long?

Elliot, she's a traumatized eight-year-old girl

who's been kidnapped and molested

after watching her mother die.

We know how to talk to her.

I brought you something to make you feel better.

You found Bosha.

Well, Bosha got all dirty. But this is his little brother.

You think he'd like a necklace too?

Yes, but I don't have anymore fairy dust.

Well, we could go back and get some.

I don't know where the van is.

What van?

The van that gave us a ride to New York.

The fairy dust was in the van.

Honey...

Nicki, it's okay. You're not gonna get in trouble.

Yes, I will.

Mama says it's a sin to take things

that don't belong to you.

Well, you know what, Nicki?

I want to call the guy who drove that van.

And I'm gonna tell him

that you just borrowed the fairy dust.

It's not such a bad thing to borrow stuff, right?

There was lots of fairy dust in the van.

Can you ask him if I can have some more?

For little Bosha?

We will, but we gonna find out who he is first.

Do you remember his name?

Mr. Michael.

Don't worry. I made all the calls from a payphone.

What'd you find out?

Louisiana BioChem Defense has seven employees

with Michael as their first or last name.

You check their whereabouts during Katrina?

All evacuated before the storm

except one lab technician. Michael Delpit.

He volunteered to stay behind and guard the lab.

Or loot it.

Where's Delpit now?

He quit. Tracked him down in Jersey

working at a lab in New Brunswick.

Munch found my auntie.

Mrs. Fontenot found us.

I saw the girls picture in the paper.

Thank you so much for taking such good care of them.

She says we can go live with her. Um, where's Nicki?

She's right in there. Why don't you go in and see her?

Where you going?

Don't ask, don't tell.

Excuse me. Have you seen this man?

Back there.

Michael Delpit.

This is a restricted area.

Not as restricted as a life sentence in Leavenworth.

You're under arrest for the theft

and interstate transportation of a level three biohazard.

Where's the anthrax?

It's gone.

Guy first got in touch with me

when I was working for Louisiana BioDefense.

Offered me big bucks for weapons grade anthrax.

But I couldn't smuggle it out of the lab.

Right. But you saw an opportunity

when Katrina hit.

Well, the staff split. Just me and the monkeys

and the lab rats stayed to ride out the storm.

When the power went out, so did the security system.

I loaded up the van and hit the road.

But you stopped

and picked up Alvin Dutch and the girls. Why?

I figured a family of evacuees would give me a good cover

if I hit a roadblock.

Where'd you drop off the anthrax?

14th Street. Met the guy in a parking lot.

He gave me the cash.

I didn't ask any questions.

Did you see him leave?

He walked around the corner.

Pause it. Disappeared.

Did he ever tell you who he sold it to?

He never knew the guy's name.

All he had was a cell phone number.

Give it to me.

It was prepaid. Already out of service.

Damn it.

Hold on.

So you stole the anthrax.

You sold it to some guy.

You bother to ask him what he was gonna do with it?

Not my concern. I got my money.

He got what he wanted.

And all the innocent people

who could die?

It won't be me. I've got a supply of Cipro.

He brokers death and doesn't lose a night's sleep.

I always wondered how they could do that.

Guys like Delpit don't think about

who they're hurting. It's like a rapist.

Doesn't think about his victim.

About that tape.

Only my partner and I know that it exists.

Delpit didn't know that we were recording him.

You guys don't tape interrogations.

Why'd you do it?

The feds are gonna make Michael Delpit disappear.

I don't want the truth to vanish with him.

You can't ever let anyone know that you heard this.

Not your editor.

You have my word.

Is that the end of the tape?

Almost.

If people are too stupid

to plan for all eventualities,

then they're too dumb to live.

I think of it as natural selection.

All those deaths will be on your hands.

Don't be so dramatic. I'm just the middleman.

It's a business transaction.

Military contractors make fortunes building weapons

that bomb countries back to the Stone Age.

Then they double their money getting government contracts

to rebuild war zones.

Why shouldn't I get a piece of the pie?

He's a cold bastard.

We've got company.

I've gotta get out of here.

Fire stairs behind me.

Okay. Give me the tape.

One second.

Look, if the feds find me here,

you and I are both going to jail.

And your story's never gonna get out.

I'm almost done.

Now, Jackson.

Olivia? They're keeping it all very hush-hush.

But my buddy in the U.S. Attorney's office

got word from a Marshall.

Jackson Zane's refused to name his source.

He's going to jail.

Yes. There's no federal shield law for journalists.

So refusing to talk is contempt of court.

I read his article.

Anthrax scares the hell out of me.

It takes a lot of balls

to go to jail for the truth.

How long can they hold him?

Until he names names.

Thank you.

You shouldn't have come.

They'll be checking my visitors.

I used my undercover alias. Rachel Martin.

It's still risky.

I had to see you.

I want you to talk.

I want you to tell them it was me.

No, that anthrax is still out there.

We both did the right thing.

But I'm not in jail.

You don't belong here.

You were protecting those girls.

Hell, the whole city.

You did your job. And I'm doing mine.

You're sitting in jail, Jackson.

Give them my name and get back to work.

I give them your name, they win.

There's no freedom without free press.

Now I chose to write this story.

And I'll take the consequences.

Good-bye, Olivia.

Don't come back.