All language subtitles for FBI_ Most Wanted - 01x13 -.KILLERS-mSD.English

Did you already pack
my kangaroo sweatshirt?

- You're not wearing that.
- Jason said I had to.

Remember the time you let
Jason talk you into buying a...

You okay?

I'll text Jason,
tell him we can't make it.

No, one of us has to show up,
and I'll be okay.

Mm, morning sickness, what a crock.

Well, it's morning
somewhere in the world.

I don't know what else we can do.

- Go public. Make a stink.

Force the cops to do something.

They said there's nothing they can do.

They just keep telling me
what I should do.

Get off social media, change passwords,

oh, live the rest of my life and Carly's

looking over our shoulder.

Where's Carly?

- Home... feeling crappy.
She said to say sorry.

_

What?

This is Carly. Sorry I missed your call.

- Hey...
- Hey, Chris!

I wait for you, see? Like you say.

Wait, wait, wait.

[screaming

- Holy... oh, my God!
- Okay, okay, okay.

- Yo, call the police!
- Oh, my God, Jason!

Call the police!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

CID's throwing us a real curve ball.

What the hell?

We're operating under
a John Doe fugitive warrant.

The unknown assailant is wanted

for double homicide
and attempted kidnapping

last night in Brooklyn.

Anybody get the plates from the van?

No, the intended kidnap victim

is Chris Thompson,

marketing wonk in the tech field.

For the past four months,
Thompson has been the target

of a cyberstalker who goes
by the name of HuntingChris.

Two hours before the assault,
Thompson received this text.

"You won't be so lucky next time."

Where did this threat originate?

Unknown, but across state lines,

which makes it ours.

It came from behind a VPN

and through an encrypted server

then bounced around four states

before it landed on Thompson's phone.

Our stalker knows what he's doing.

We have any other messages from him?

From the police file
when Thompson filed a report

three months ago.
This is the first message.

"You take my time, I take yours."

Any more?

_

_

_

_

Then last night, before the assault,

Thompson received this.

"Moving won't help.

I can get to you anywhere...
all three of you."

Thompson's wife's pregnant.

Stalker's been smart enough

not to make an actionable threat.

Well, anybody
this obsessive is dangerous.

The police shouldn't have
had to have two people die

to figure that out.

Point taken.

It's unclear what kind of stalker

we're dealing with,
but I think we can eliminate

a couple of categories.

He doesn't read as an intimacy seeker

nor as an incompetent suitor,
the type who imagine

a loving relationship with their target.

That leaves the rejected, resentful,

and the predatory type.

Thompson and his wife
are in a safe house...

Three shifts, two agents per.

That bar Thompson came out of, I know it.

It's upscale, and there's limos
parked outside all the time.

Limos have cameras in front and back.

You and Kenny get on that.

We'll take care of the Thompsons.

Remember, as long as there's
no face on this poster,

the stalker has the upper hand.

A threat can come from anywhere.

I have been racking my brain
these last four months

to figure out what I did
to piss this guy off.

Now he's killed my friend
and that poor driver

over something I don't even know I did.

I don't understand why he didn't kill me.

I'm the one he's been stalking.

We don't know for sure other than

he feels aggrieved by you
and wants to extract an apology

on his terms.

I have apologized to him.

I even offered to meet him
and talk it out.

Some stalkers can be
successfully confronted

with the consequences of their stalking.

Obviously not this one.

He has sent thousands of emails to us,

our friends, families, coworkers.

And he even sent plumbers and contractors

to our apartment
at all hours of the night.

And the police said that there
was nothing that they could do.

They can't trace him.

Okay, so take us through what happened

in the days before
you got the first message.

We had dinner at Carly's parents.

And then we went to the paint store

to look for colors for the baby's room,

and then we had an emergency appointment

at my OBGYN because I was having pains.

I went to work.
There's nothing... nothing.

Well, the message he sent you
before you were attacked

mentioned you were moving?

I put in for a transfer
to the San Francisco office,

and he knows that. How does he know?

Cyberstalkers can be very tech savvy.

We want to put trackers
on all your devices...

So we can see incoming messages

and trace them in real time.

He's never gonna leave us alone, is he?

Sometimes they get tired of the game,

choose another target.

Sometimes.

Clinton got a hit off the limo footage.

You're safe here.

You follow our direction,
you'll stay safe.

If it's any comfort,

people who are ruled by their obsessions,

they take risks, they make mistakes.

We'll catch this person.

Plate tracks to an address in Queens.

It's okay, honey. It's okay.

I don't have any guns
in the house, I swear.

I have kids.

Just a sedan in the garage... no van.

Your green van, Mr. Upton, where is it?

I sold it a couple weeks ago to some guy.

- This guy have a name?
- I... I don't remember it.

It'll be on the transfer
of ownership papers.

So you don't have the transfer papers.

You wanna tell us another story?

This is scary.

I... I don't know who has the van.

No, really, I advertised it
online, and this...

This creep got in touch with me online.

He hacked into my computer's camera

and filmed me watching...

watching porn.

Not a crime.

Yeah, maybe not for you.

My wife would kill me if she found out.

Anyone ever tell you
to cover up the camera?

Well, I have now.

The van, Mr. Upton.

The creep told me where to leave it...

in New Jersey in the middle
of nowhere at night...

or he would send his video of me

to my wife, my sister,
whoever else I knew

'cause he had my contact list.

I did what he said.

I let him steal my van.

And did you see him or talk to him?

No, but he was somewhere.
He was watching.

I walked away like he told me to,

but I looked back, and he
sent me a text right away.

Told me to keep walking to the corner

and get on the 107 bus or else.

This place makes the middle
of nowhere sound exotic.

It's a perfect drop off place...

hidden from the street,

behind businesses
that are closed at night.

Only someone who knows the neighborhood

- would know about it.
- Knows about the 107 bus too.

Our John Doe either works
or lives around here.

Upton walked back down to the road

after he dropped the van.

Our John Doe was watching him.

Could be any one
of those buildings or houses.

Could be watching us right now.

We need to canvass
the entire neighborhood.

Check for the van, security cameras

all the way from here
to the top of the Heights.

The nearest working security camera

was a quarter mile from that lot.

No sign of the green van heading south.

Or north... he's probably heading east

up into the Heights.
It's residential, no cameras.

Canvass hasn't turned up anything.

And the texts Upton got
after he left the van

trace to a single use burner,
so our John Doe

used it only to communicate with Upton.

He hasn't used it since.

He is disciplined.

Shopping for serial killer vans?

No windows.

These are the photos
Upton posted on Craigslist.

He kept the van in good shape.

That he does.

Hana, can you pull up
the pictures of the van

- on the night of the shooting?
- Mm-hmm.

♪ _

Nice try, jerk.

- Problem?
- Nope.

I've got the photos right here.

I'll need a side by side comparison.

I can do that.

You see the dings
in the panel here and here?

They weren't there
when Upton was selling it.

Those are the kind of marks
you get in a parking lot

when someone next to you
dings you with their door.

You're right. Our John Doe's been
keeping it in a public parking lot.

Now, he's gonna try it again.

To kidnap Thompson, he'll need a van.

He has to figure we made the plates.

The van's hot.

He probably ditched it and got a new one.

Yeah, but he went to a lot
of trouble to get that one.

Be easier just to switch the plates.

And park it somewhere
you won't draw attention.

- Or get towed.
- Won't get tickets.

Hana, take us down Tonnele Avenue.

Fasten your seat belts.

It's all private lots.
There's nowhere to hide.

Keep going.

Stop.

Now, what is that right there?

Newark Airport long-term parking.

All right.

Stand back. Lead team on approach.

- Now hold that.
Hold that.

Clear!

Clear!

Oh, my God.

Restraints for stress positions,

bone breaking tools.

Dungeon on wheels.

It hurts just looking at it.

The guy who would build this,
he'll never stop.

All right, it's all yours.

So he wants to immobilize
Thompson spread eagle face up,

and he wants Thompson
to be able to see him.

To watch him take the tools
of the trade off the rack.

Anticipation is part of the terror.

Any volunteers?

We need somebody with roughly
the same size head as Thompson.

- Uh, that would be you, boss.
- Definitely.

You could share hats.

I'll hold your hand.

All right then. Help me out here.

Okay, so it's not very comfortable.

It's tight on my head,
and I can't really move my jaw.

Actually... yeah, yeah, get...

Ugh.

Well, everything else is off the shelf,

but this head cage
is custom fit, handmade.

By someone who knows what they're doing.

No rough edges, joints are clean...

probably a craftsman who
caters to the bondage crowd.

Let's find him.

If Thompson only knew

what this sick puppy had in mind for him.

He'll find out. People talk.

We should be the ones to tell them.

All right, you up for it?

You seem to have a good rapport
with the Thompsons.

Mm-hmm.

I think I should go too, boss.

It's gonna be traumatic. I can do trauma.

Okay.

You can't let anybody bully you.

Just 'cause they think
they're God almighty

doesn't mean you have to take their crap.

You gotta hit 'em like this
and this and this!

That's the one.

That's the one for him.

Hold me captive in a van?

- And do what to me?
- Nothing pleasant.

He had restraints
and other things to hurt you.

Oh, my God.

But none of that is going to happen now.

How do you know?

He could just disappear, couldn't he?

Until you and everybody else
lose interest, and then...

- I won't lose interest.
- None of us will.

Once we put someone
on the most wanted list,

they stay there until
they're caught or they're dead.

Oh, well...

How are we supposed to live until then?

Keeping busy helps.

You'd be surprised how quickly

being vigilant becomes second nature.

You'll discover
the remarkable human ability

to deal with terrible things

such as fear, disease, and robocalls.

And talking helps too.

Now, you've been through some trauma,

and that can manifest
mood swings, bad sleep.

We can put you in touch with people

who can help you sort it out,

and it's really worth doing.

We thought we could just run away.

He's gonna outlast us.

He's stronger than us, and he's focused.

He's got nothing else in his life

except for this senseless hate for me!

I'm losing him.

We're having a baby,
and I'm losing my husband.

Not too far from Hawthorn, actually.

Oh, is that right?

I don't know about him,

but I think she connected
with what you told them.

Yeah? Maybe.

You go in.

I'm gonna stay out here
and get some fresh air.

All right.

Hey, is there anything
you want to tell me?

About what?

I don't know.

It's like this case landed
on you like a ton of bricks...

and those text messages
you've been getting...

It's nothing, Kenny.

Thanks for asking.

Has Hana done a stalker case before?

Maybe one that went south?

Why do you ask?

Where is she?

I realize this case is dredging up

bad memories for you,
but I thought you'd be able

to harness them to good effect.

Was I wrong?

It's not the memories.

A few years ago,
before I knew all of you,

there was a guy, Jack Wellman,

a hacker, an FBI contractor.

We went on a date, by which I mean one.

The chemistry wasn't right for me.

Well, that wasn't good enough
for Mr. Wellman.

He started stalking me.

Emails, texts, turning up at my apartment

all hours of the day and night,

- sending me flowers and gifts.
- Hana...

He didn't break the law,
but I reported him,

and he was fired from the bureau.

Is he still harassing you?

He lets me know he's around.

He makes me feel weak and vulnerable,

and I don't like it.

I hadn't heard from him
for about six months,

but he's resurfaced offering help.

He says he knows something about our guy.

He could full of crap,
but he's a great hacker...

- better than our John Doe.
- What does he want in return?

To meet me... just the two of us.

It's out of the question.

Wait, hold on.
That's up to Hana, isn't it?

It is up to me, and I'm not sure.

This just came in.

We got a hit on the welder
who made the head cage.

Who said I made it?

We do.

And so do the people
at the Marquis Sex Shop

who sell your goods.

They recognize your craftsmanship.

We wanna know
who you made this piece for.

I make a lot of these.

All sorts of people like a
little discipline in their lives.

- You'd be surprised.
- I wouldn't.

This would've been made
custom fit for somebody.

Maybe you can check your
dimensions against the records.

I could if I kept records.

No records of
cash transactions or checks?

I don't think money was involved here.

Isn't that right, Mr. Royce?

The man we're after
has a preferred method

of getting what he wants... blackmail.

Let's say he hacked
into a camera security system

and caught somebody doing something dicey

like illegal safe cracking.

Acme Strong, they make good safes.

Nothing a talented welder couldn't open.

Now you're gonna tell us
that you crack safes

for the legal owners
who forget their combinations.

Sounds about right.

I wonder if the NYPD would agree.

- What do you think, Barnes?
- You know what?

They love arresting people,
especially when somebody else

just hands them the evidence.

So this guy who ordered the cage,

he has a tape on you cracking
a safe, and he blackmailed you.

Yeah.

Okay, if you put it that way...

He sent me the dimensions.

He told me to leave the piece
at some God forsaken place

out in Union City.

Tonnele Avenue.

Gee, I didn't know
it was such a hot spot.

You happen to get a look at him maybe?

I doubled back and hid.

I wanted to see the little pissant.

That's him, and that's his car.

Clear.

Clear in back!

Clear!

Clear.

Main floor clear!

Welcome to stalking central.

Camera's on. He's watching us.

Let's get the CART team in here

before we tear this place apart.

Can you trace his location?

Coffee shop on Chestnut.

Too late, suckers.

Seems pleased with himself.

Four sugars with his coffee...

I hope his teeth rot out of his head.

David Fallon of Newark
has been identified

as a suspect in a double homicide

and attempted kidnapping

last Tuesday night in Brooklyn.

Take a look at this.

Fallon, a self-employed
security systems installer

lived alone here in this house...

"Didn't hold the elevator,
blocked the alley entrance,

cut in line, didn't apologize
for knocking over my coffee."

Everyone who's ever offended him...

times, dates,
description of the offender.

- Thin skinned little bastard.
- Check this out.

Broken taillight?

By the markings on it,
looks like a Japanese model.

Fallon started remotely
deleting the hard drives

as soon as we entered the house.

Not sure how much we saved.

"September 10, 1993, 7:10 a.m.

"The man left work." 5:42
p.m. The man came home.

"8:17. Man yelled at his wife.

11:06 p.m. Lights out."

- He was watching someone.
- 1993?

Fallon must have been eight or nine.

Stalker even then.

Polaroids, probably taken by a child.

How much do you have
to piss off an eight-year-old

to make him stalk you?

I found Fallon's client list,

all the places where
he installed security systems.

Check this out.

"Nevins Street Obstetrics."

Carly Thompson's clinic.

The one they visited right before

Fallon started stalking them.

I've never seen him at the clinic.

You said you had to see your doctor

because you were in pain?

Yes, we called ahead.

The receptionist hurried us to the back.

Doctor Gupta was in
the hallway talking to some...

Him.

She was talking to him.

Then what happened?

Nothing. Dr. Gupta saw us coming.

She broke off the conversation
with this guy

and hustled us into an exam room.

- Did you say anything to him?
- No.

Did he react to being interrupted?

Not that I noticed.

Was there any physical contact?

Maybe you nudged him or something?

No, I went around him.

That's it?

That's why he's doing this?

I thought I was having a miscarriage.

Isn't that more important than whatever

he was talking about with Dr. Gupta?

Of course it was... to a normal person.

Well, thank you for this information.

It's been very helpful.

Now you know who he is. You'll catch him.

I understand this isn't easy,
but you'll need to be patient.

All these minor slights and insults,

they're triggering Fallon, reminding him

of a traumatic experience.

The man in his diary,
the guy across the street,

maybe that's what warped him...

not that it makes me feel sorry for him.

You don't have to pity him.
You just have to understand him.

Where he's been is where he'll be.

That's how we'll catch him.

So we're going to find
Fallon's first stalking victim

from 1993.

You know what he's gonna say...

gonna say he didn't mean it.

He thinks he's so important...

and now you're nothing.

You're gonna break him into nothing.

Excuse me.

Can I help you with that?

Who the hell are you?

I'm Agent LaCroix of the FBI.

We're looking for information
on a former neighbor of yours...

the Fallons.
They lived across the street.

- Mister...
- Tommy Wright.

I see you brought your girlfriends.

So what do they do,
hold your gun for you?

We have our own guns.

Do you remember the Fallons?

A brood of no account losers.

Now get the hell of my property
before I toss you off!

Dad, what's wrong?

These morons from the FBI!
They're trespassing.

It's okay, Dad. Go inside.

- I'll take care of this.
- All right.

Don't let them push you around.

I apologize for my father.

It's all right.

We were asking about David Fallon.

He lived across the street
with his parents.

I saw his name in the news.

He seemed to have
a fascination with your father.

- He took these pictures.
- Oh, wow.

Well, Dad has a reputation
in the neighborhood.

- You mean as a bully?
- I know how he comes off.

In 1993, Fallon kept
a diary about your father.

Any idea what might have happened

between the two of them?

My dad didn't pick on little kids,

but Davey's father, he was fair game.

Mr. Fallon was meek, I guess,
kind of sad-looking.

This was with the Polaroids.

It's from a broken taillight.
Does that mean anything to you?

I think so. I was 16.

I remember Mr. Fallon
backing out of his driveway

and Dad pulling into ours.

They bumped into each other.

Mr. Fallon got a broken taillight.

Dad jumped out screaming at Mr. Fallon

who was apologizing.

Dad slapped him.

Mr. Fallon didn't do anything.

He just got back in his car
and drove off.

And where was David?

In his front yard.
He saw the whole thing.

He looked like he was gonna cry.

I felt so bad for Davey
seeing his father humiliated.

Any other incidents between
your dad and the Fallons?

No, Mr. Fallon died a year after.

Heart attack, I heard.

Davey moved away with his mom.

Found the autopsy report
on Fallon's father...

not a heart attack, death by suicide.

He swallowed a pesticide cocktail.

His wife found him in the basement.

She lied to the neighbors

then slipped out of town with their son.

I'm sure young Fallon
drew a straight line

between the humiliation
and his father's death.

That's a heavy weight for a kid to carry.

No wonder he gets triggered every
time someone disrespected him.

He's not a child anymore.

He's an adult and grievance collector.

And a coward.

Some of the people in his journal,

he slashed their tires,
canceled their credit cards.

He poisoned a dog.

Escalating but never
confronting 'em face to face.

Could be a learned behavior
from his father.

People with depression
like to avoid confrontation.

Ultimately, that could be
who he's angry with.

Speaking of cowards,
I just got another text message

from Jack Wellman.

"High fives for IDing Fallon,

but I could've spared you the trouble."

Look at this.

He hacked Fallon's phone?

I told you he was good.

"I have more good stuff for you.

Let's meet... you and me."

He's offering intel on Fallon.

It can't hurt to hear what he's got.

Mm, could hurt you.

To get a killer off the street,

I'm willing to take that chance.

I'll go with you.

If it makes you feel better.
Just don't bite him.

So...

What have you got?

Bad case of you.

You said you have good stuff on Fallon.

I do. I didn't say it comes free.

You never gave me a reason.

I did give it. You refused to hear it.

So what have you got on Fallon?

You hacked his cell phone.
You have his IMSI?

You know, if you'd been nice to me,

I could've given you
that photo of him two days ago

before you ID'ed him.
You'd be ahead of the game.

"Game."

Do you have anything on Fallon?

There's an easy way to find out:

us back together.

We were never together, Jack.

We went on one date, and you
decided I was your property.

Stay away from me. Stop stalking me.

Stalking? I'm not stalking...

Get up off that stool,
you're gonna have two broken legs.

What are you, her boyfriend or something?

- Or something.
- I'll let you in on a secret.

Deep down, Hana digs
the attention I give her.

No.

Okay, you lay a finger on me,
and I got 12 witnesses here.

You'll be run out of the bureau
faster than I was.

Kenny, forget him.

Already have.

So, bottom line, you're
no closer to catching him?

I want Carly away from this.

I'm taking her to JFK this afternoon.

She's catching a flight to San Francisco.

You can't stop me from protecting her.

We're protecting her here.

We just need to get on with our lives.

Stop trying to decide what works for us.

All right, we'll notify
the San Francisco office.

Have them provide you with security.

What's your plan?

I'm gonna stay here
till you catch this piece of...

Are you sure you wouldn't
rather be with your wife?

She's safer without me.

It's me he wants.

Double double with double everything.

Mm, thanks.

That Wellman, he's a piece of work, huh?

One of God's little mistakes.

I recovered Fallon's search history.

Before he disappeared,
he was cruising AirBnB,

looking at houses in Central New Jersey.

He's looking for an empty house.

Did he find one?

All I have is his search
history, no transactions,

but let me look and see
what else I can recover.

LaCroix.

Check the security video.

Don't let Ms. Thompson board that flight.

Chris Thompson gave
the slip to the security

after they dropped his wife off
at the airport.

I had no idea he would do this.

He was frustrated. We both were.

But I never would've agreed to it.

Chris can't take on this monster.

Does he own a gun?

He borrowed one from his brother

when we started getting harassed.

How would your husband find Fallon?

Was he in contact with him?

When Chris started
getting emails from Fallon,

he would write back, you know,
begging him to leave us alone,

and, sometimes, we'd get a reply,

but that was months ago.

The trackers we have on their devices

don't show any unusual activity.

Your husband wouldn't have

another phone he didn't
tell us about, would he?

No.

But yesterday morning,
he went into the office.

He said he had project
he absolutely had to finish.

One of the agents went with him.

His work computer.

Check the assistant's computer too.

On it.

We're coming up on it on the right...

right there past the barrier.

Charming.

Fallon's email said he put
a burner phone for Thompson

in a chicken bucket.

- What's that for?
- Rats.

We got fresh tire tracks over here!

Chicken bucket over here!

Full of grease but no burner phone...

Thompson must have picked it up.

Check the nearest cell tower.

Maybe he used the phone right away.

Got it... prepaid burner
used 30 minutes ago

heading south on Route 206.

He's got 15 miles on us.

Call him up for me.

Here you go.

Fallon?

Mr. Thompson, it's Agent LaCroix.

I'd like you to pull over
so we can talk to you.

No, this ends now, whatever it takes.

This man has already killed two people.

- You're walking into a trap.
- My life's a trap.

I won't live like this.

I'd like you to think
of your wife and child.

You're no good to them dead or in prison.

I'm no good to them now.

If I don't have the guts
to protect them, what use am I?

He hung up.

He's only ten miles ahead of us now.

He just turned down Route 518.

Punch it.

Burner phone's on the floor.

There's fresh blood up here.

Drag marks along the ground, tire tracks.

Fallon took him.

The AirBnB houses Fallon was looking at

are all over Central New Jersey.

Start within ten miles
of where he snatched Thompson,

towns like Hopewell, Mt. Rose.

And check with AirBnB transactions.

Jess, take a look at this house.

The well in the front yard

is the same as the house
with the neighborhood bully...

a two-story house with shutters.

Just like the scene
of Fallon's first humiliation.

She's right.

This is where he'd take Thompson.

Mr. Fallon, please, let me explain.

It's too late for that.

I know I was rude,
but my wife was in pain.

Oh, there we go. It's
always someone else's fault.

Do you think you're
more important than me?

What? No.

Please, I'm trying to apologize.

Apolo... you brought a gun!

You obviously need to learn manners.

Just...

Yeah, shh.

Lesson one.

- Clear!
- Clear!

Clear!

Clear front!

Clear.

- No sign Fallon's been here.
- It seemed perfect.

It is perfect,
but he didn't wanna be in it.

He wanted to see it
just like when he was a kid...

from across the street.

You see that house
with the "for sale" sign?

Basement window on the right.

That's where he is.

Now that's how you stand up for yourself.

Nobody slaps me in the face
and gets away with it.

I would've made that bastard
eat his taillight.

Come on, move it.

Come on!

Stop right there. Stop right there.

Back off! Back off!

What's the plan, David?

I'm going out that door to the garage,

I'm taking him with me,
and I'm driving away.

And then what?

I don't owe you an answer,
so just get out of the way!

We know why you chose this house.

We know the whole story.

We even met your neighbor.

He's a real sorry excuse
for a human being.

Right? So you know.

You saw.

I read your journal, David... your diary.

I can sympathize with
what you've been through.

Yeah?

Well, this one, he's one of those,

so just let me do what I got to do.

I can't let you leave with him.

But I think you've made your point.

You righted the wrong,
you know what I mean?

What happened to your father?

My dad was a coward.

He should've fought back,
but he just took it.

I don't think your father was a coward.

He had a disease. He had depression.

What are you...
What are you talking about?

He... I saw him with my own eyes.

He let that guy bitch slap him.

David, I want to show you something

Okay?

- What are you doing?
- Just give me a second.

I want to show you
your father's autopsy report.

You need to see it.
You owe it to yourself.

Okay, just take a look at it.

- No, I don't wanna see it.
- Take a look, David.

I don't wanna look at it.

It says that your father
took his own life.

What? No.

Not because of your neighbor

or because of your mother
or because of you,

but because he was in pain.

Your father was a very sick man,

but he wasn't a coward.

He worked every day. He provided for you,
for your mother.

He did the best he could.

You don't need to be
angry at him anymore.

Oh, God.

You can let go now, David.

No need to punish anybody anymore.

I got you.

Take him up.

Good one, boss.

It was touch and go there for a while.

You always do that.
Always empathize with them,

try to make them feel better
about themselves.

Why?

So they know they have a choice.

I saw you caught Fallon.
Better late than never.

So you called to tell me you're ready

- to move our thing forward?
- Yes.

- I'm moving forward.
- I knew you'd come around.

So I was thinking, we could go tonight...

There's no "we" here.

I'm moving forward right past you.

You told my buddy the other day
that you think

I secretly dig your attention,

which made me realize that
you've been operating in the dark...

that you have no concept of what

your attention has done to me,

the impact that it's had on my life.

- Hana, I know...
- No, you don't know.

So now you need to hear me.

After our one date,

after a month of your constant attention,

your texts and emails

and buzzing my apartment day and night,

I started having migraines.

I get nauseous, sick to my stomach,

just to see an email
in my inbox from you.

And three months later,
I had an outbreak of eczema.

I hadn't had eczema since I was eight.

And then my period stopped.

The doctor said
it was all stress-related.

Here, I brought the doctor's bills

in case you don't believe me.

I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder.

I had to go on medication.

I saw three different therapists.

I was afraid.

I carry a gun,

and I was afraid all the time,

because you made me afraid.

I didn't want to make you feel...

Maybe you thought
all that attention was sexy.

It wasn't.

Maybe you thought
it showed that you cared.

It didn't.

Whatever you intended,
it did the opposite.

But now, you know.

You've gotta let me defend myself.

No, I don't.

You're not entitled to anything from me.

My life is my life.

You're not a part of it.

You were never a part of it.

You'll never be a part of it.

You're done with me, Jack...

And I'm done with you.