All language subtitles for Burn Notice - 5x12 - Dead To Rights.HDTV.LOL.en

My name is Michael Westen.
I used to be a spy until...

We got a burn notice
on you. You're blacklisted.

When you're burned,
you've got nothing --

no cash, no credit,
no job history.

You're stuck in whatever city
they decide to dump you in.

- Where am I?
- Miami.

You do whatever work
comes your way.

You rely on anyone
who's still talking to you.

A trigger-happy
ex-girlfriend...

Should we shoot them?

...An old friend who used
to inform on you to the FBI...

You know spies --
a bunch of bitchy little girls.

...Family, too...
Hey, is that your mom again?

...If you're desperate.
Someone needs your help, Michael.

Bottom line --
as long as you're burned,

you're not going anywhere.

Max! What happened?

Who did this to you?

- Say goodbye for me.
- Max!

Whoever did this
managed to put

a murder weapon in Michael's
hands and get away clean.

Our killer's in there.
We should go in now.

Mike, there's the guy!

We got to find this guy,
and the only thing we got now

is a thoroughly toasted
computer.

We got to make it fast, Sam.
I already talked to Pearce.

She's investigating
the warehouse fire.

You lied to me.
You killed him!

I was framed.

He's Romanian.
His name is Tavian.

Sam and Jesse are tracking him
right now.

Just let me make
one phone call --

Don't even think
about it.

Come on, Mike.
Pick up. Pick up.

This is Michael.
Leave a message.

Damn it.
He's still not answering?

Yeah. Fi said she was with him
like 15 minutes ago.

Something's not right.
Pull over up here.

I want to take a peek at
Mike's loft before we get there.

Oh, son of a bitch.
It's the Feds.

I had a feeling.
Take a look.

I guess Pearce
finally caught up with us.

Looks like Mike's
already in custody.

She's gonna be
after us, too.

I'm not ready to say
this is over yet. Are you?

Well...

what are you thinking?

I'm thinking
that Pearce is taking Mike

to a federal holding facility
downtown right now.

Now, if we haul
some serious ass,

we can stop them
and try and change their minds.

Let's go.
Push it!

Okay, I'm starting to have
second thoughts.

Are you -- com--
this was your idea!

I'm serious.
This car is Fi's baby.

- If we wreck it, she's gonna be pissed.
- Sam, you got a better plan?

- No.
- Me neither.

Stopping an armed convoy

is a tactical nightmare.

The easily accessible cars --

the ones in the lead
and at the tail --

are the ones that don't matter.

Which way you going?
You going right?

Left.
I'm going left.

The trick is
getting into position

to target the key vehicle

before anyone realizes
what you're doing.

Hey! Whoa!
Whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Sam, shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
- Pull up a little bit.

There's no real safe way
to do it.

Send the lead car
into a tailspin

while inserting yourself
into the convoy...

Do it!

...And you can create
your own little roadblock.

Move!

- Hands -- hands right here. Yep.
- Hands on your head!

Yep. No need
to shoot anybody.

Hey. Hey, look,
uh, we're not armed.

We just came here to talk.

Oh, well, you've got a funny way
of saying hello.

Yeah, hey,
that's a good one.

Listen, the guy that killed Max
is on Brickell Key.

His name is Tavian Korzha.

Sounds like you boys
got your story straight,

but it's just that --
a story.

Think we'd pull a stunt
like that for fun?

We got Homeland Security
to lock the island down

and trap the son of a bitch.
- Pearce!

Listen to me!
Listen to me!

We know where this guy is
right now!

We could take him down!

Just let me make one phone call
to set up the meeting.

You owe me that much!

I don't owe you
a damn thing!

You and your friends
are done.

What about Max?

What about Max's wife?

What do you owe them?

Look at me.

This is your last chance.

We miss this guy
and he gets away...

will you be able to
forgive yourself?

I know I won't.

Get them in the car.

He...stays with me.

I guess we're going
to Brickell Key.

Burn Notice 5x12
Dead to Rights
Original Air Date on September 8, 2011

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

All right.
What did Tavian say?

He wants to meet.

He's holed up in
a half-finished parking garage

six blocks from here.

How do you want to play this,
Agent Pearce?

I have a couple options.

The FBI wants to send
a negotiator,

and I got a cowboy local sheriff
ready to send S.W.A.T.

on a full-scale assault.

Tavian has the tactical
advantage, and he travels heavy.

Any direct assault
will end up as a bloodbath.

As far as he knows,
no one's on to him.

You send me in,
I'll bring him out.

What, I give you a gun,
send you off by yourself?

You are seriously overestimating
my trust in you.

You send me in unarmed.
I'll wear a mike.

You can have spotters
in the area

and a tactical unit
on the street watching me.

Okay. You're up.

But try anything,
my teams won't just watch you.

- They'll shoot you dead. We clear?
- Crystal clear.

They got you, too?

Picked me up
at the bridge.

I heard
what was going on.

I asked if I could say goodbye
in case...

Hey, an hour ago, I was on my way
to jail for the rest of my life.

How much worse is this,
really?

The man is ruthless.

He killed one of his own people
to avoid capture.

You won't even have
a gun!

The only way I'm gonna
get out of this

is if I get Tavian
to talk.

I can't ask anyone else
to risk their life for this.

Michael,
come back to me.

Come on.

Tavian!

If you're gonna shoot me...
Get it over with.

Otherwise, let's talk.

Finally.

I've been waiting
for you.

It's been
a busy morning.

Your man Sam said
you'd be here two hours ago.

Instead, he has the police
seal the island.

He doesn't know
who he chooses for an enemy.

You chose us.

You killed our friend
and tried to pin it on me.

Yeah.

And it didn't stick,
did it?

And when I came to kill you,
you wouldn't die.

So, here we are.
You need me, and I need you.

Time to make a deal.

It's too late for that.

It's not just local police
down there.

It's FBI, CIA.
They all know your name.

If you think

you're gonna get out
of this clean, you're wrong.

You son of a bitch.

You got a choice,
Tavian.

You surrender peacefully,
you give us information,

I'll try to keep you out
of Guantanamo.

But one way or another,
this ends today!

Well,
you're half right.

It does end...

for me.

But not for you.

Tavian.

Tavian. Tavian, no!

Pearce, look,
I just want to say --

you're free to go.

But don't even think about
leaving Miami.

And when I call, you answer.
There might be more questions.

If I had told you the truth
from the beginning

and you hadn't heard
Tavian confess,

would you really
have believed me?

Maybe.

We'll never know.

Michael!

Mom?

Agent Pearce,
this is my mother.

Mom, this is --

that was Agent Pearce.

Well, that was rude.

What are you doing here?

I was
in the neighborhood.

All right, I called,

and they told me
you were being released.

I thought
Fi was picking me up.

Yeah, well,
I want to talk to you alone.

And you need to
hear this.

And Fiona and Jesse and Sam
are not gonna tell you.

Your friends crashed into
a CIA convoy for you.

Now, you might want to
think about that.

Look, when you first came back
to Miami, you were alone.

God knows you hadn't
talked to me in ages.

You had no friends.
You lived by yourself.

But that isn't true
anymore.

You have roots here now.

And when anything happens,
it affects all of us.

I know.

But it's over now.

Is it?

I hope so.

Covert operative

is one of the most stressful
jobs there is.

Like soldiers, E.R. doctors,
and astronauts,

spies have to schedule

extended downtime
for decompression.

Carry that stress too long,

and it's easy
to start missing details,

like a strange pair of shoes

under the crack
of your door.

Welcome home, kid.

Oh, no gun, huh?

And I thought boy scouts
were always prepared.

Larry.

I thought you were extradited
to an Albanian prison.

Oh, I was, but I guess I'm
just not done haunting you yet.

- How'd you get out?
- The usual.

Money. All my money, actually.
I'm down to the felt.

But there's
a prison warden in Elbasan

who's six feet lower than that,
so here I am.

Don't bother.
The crate's empty.

I already got
your backup gun.

I'll take your phone now.

Why are you here,
Larry?

I got myself
a freelance gig.

You're gonna help me
break in

to the British Consulate
right now.

That sounds like a fun way
to earn yourself a trip --

to a much more secure
penitentiary.

Same old Michael,
always such a pessimist.

I've got this all
worked out.

See, Michael,
I brought along some help.

I brought along
a very useful, um...

kidnapped guy, kidnapped vic--
kidnappee!

Say hello to Anson.

Let's talk inside,
shall we?

Get him out.

Oh, I see you finally got
a woman's touch in here.

Or is it Fiona?

800-thread-count sheets
have their perks.

Flowers -- I could take them
or leave them.

So, Larry, how's this guy

gonna help us break in
to the British Consulate?

Go ahead, Anson.

Explain why I cut
your vacation short.

I'm a clinical psychiatrist
working for the D.I.A.

He is a government-approved
head shrink for spies.

He doles out meds
and happy talk

for broken toys like you.

The point is, he has high-level
clearance across the board.

One of my patients
is an American

working for the British.

My boss will give us...
the access codes

if I say I'm worried
there's been a leak.

Come on, Larry.
We need more than access codes.

What about building security?
What about --

Don't ask me.
Ask him. He's the expert.

Please? This can work.
It has to.

He has my wife.

Oh.

See for yourself, kid.

You see Claire's necklace?

That is
my insurance policy...

that you are gonna do
what I say today.

And I say let's go!

Yeah.
It's kind of intimidating, huh?

You know,
but we do this right,

we go in there like a hot knife
through butter.

Hey. And you know
how I like a hot knife.

3-5-5-6...

2-9-5-1.
Thank you.

That's the front door,
that's the computer log-in,

and that's the vault.

Please, just let Claire go.

Patience, pal, patience.

If these are right,
if they work --

- I think we have a problem here.
- Excuse me!

I don't know what game
you think you're playing here,

but believe me,
Larry plays for keeps.

What?
I'm not playing a game.

Are you sure?

Because when I worked
for the British,

their access codes
were 13 digits.

These are only 12.
Are you trying to pull something?

I'm telling the truth.
I swear.

Kid, seriously,
what are you doing here?

Check the access codes online
with your phone.

If it's right,

you'll be able to log on
to the basic site remotely.

Cut your way through
the backseat.

No cops.

Go to the Crest Hotel.
Ask for Sam Axe.

Well, well, well.

The codes work.

Now who's getting cute?

I'm not the one
getting cute.

I was burned for a while.

Maybe they changed
the codes.

I just don't want to
die today, Lar.

Okay. Okay.
You, in the trunk.

We'll be back in an hour.

Hey. Understand something,
Michael.

You know, I've let you skate
a few times

just because
of old times' sake,

and I always looked upon you
like...a son.

But that ended
when you sent me to prison.

Now, you don't want to get shot
in the neck,

you do what I say!

And then
you cross your fingers,

because daddy is
in one of those moods.

You want to tell me why

we're breaking in
to the British Consulate?

Are we doing a spec job?

Are we stealing
something specific?

Stop saying "we."

There's me,
the guy with the gun,

and there's you, the guy that does
whatever the hell I tell him to do.

This is not
some soapbox derby.

Okay, but but these
biohazard symbols on these boxes

are making me
a little nervous.

Well, that's fascinating,
Michael.

Feel free to keep me posted
on your feelings.

There are some things

you're not gonna get me
to do, Larry, gun or no.

Okay, fine.
It's just a cover I.D.

I'm the boss.
You're my slow-witted underling.

Oh, and by the way,
lose that jacket.

It's just
a little too fancy.

Okay. What's the job?
Where do we work?

Second floor.

That building is
a CDC satellite office

where Larry Baruchel

was recently hired
to test lab samples.

Brits are one floor up.

If Anson gave us
the access codes,

why break in
through the floor?

Because if we open
the front door of the consulate,

building security
gets a heads-up,

so we're not opening
the front door of the consulate.

- What about --
- Oh, Jesus. You know what?

You're really starting
to piss the boss off.

And getting fired around here
is the real bitch.

Hey.
How's it going, guys?

Got a couple of samples
to run here.

Well,
quiet Sunday, huh?

You broke our streak.

Yeah.

Those are
good-looking boys.

Yeah, they take after
their dad...whoever he is.

Oh ho! Nice.

All right.
Have a good one.

Sorry, need your I.D.,
too, sir.

Huh?

Oh, no, uh, he's with me.
Chris is with me.

Oh, no,
it's not okay, though,

'cause, uh, we got to check
the I.D.s before --

but I don't get my I.D.
till Thursday

'cause I didn't fill out the
paperwork right or something.

Yeah.

This is
what they stick me with.

Uh, it's...okay.

Just sign here and stop by
on your way back to sign out.

- Right there.
- Okay.

There we go.

Nice.
Slow-witted suits you.

What up, Eduardo?

Sorry to make you
come down, Mr. Axe.

I know noon to 3:30
is Sam siesta time, but --

No, no, no, that's okay, buddy.
It's all right.

Who's this guy
who wants to see me?

Are you Sam Axe?

Most of the time.

My name's Anson Fullerton.
My...

My wife has been taken.

This lunatic strapped a bomb
to her neck, and Mike --

Michael Westen?

He said that you might be able to --
that you would help.

Okay, slow down.
One thing at a time.

Where is Mike now?

He's with this guy.
Uh, Larry.

They went downtown -- stop talking.
Give me a second.

Fi, it's Sam.
Hey, we got a problem.

Larry's back.

And who said
I'd never get a day job?

Okay.
Open your box.

Inside, you'll find
all the tools you need

to hack your way up
into that vent.

One flight up
runs past a hallway

connected
to the consulate lobby,

and that's where you'll be
making us a doorway.

All right?
Set yourself up.

Let me remind you of something,
Michael.

In two hours, Anson's gonna
have himself a liquid bride

if this doesn't go well.

You got that?

Got it.
Let's do this.

I like that attitude.

Now, before we do
any of the heavy lifting,

I am gonna buy us
a little privacy.

Follow my lead.

Hey, guys.
Is everything okay up there?

Some kind of warning light
just came on.

There's just a little problem
with the container tank.

It's not ebola.
Here's what we need to do.

Call the police, Tim.

Tim, do you have the sheet
with the CDC instructions?

No, no. It is not ebola.
It is just a Class-2 spill.

The building is empty,
right?

Yeah, y-you're
the only visitors.

- W-what do you mean, Class 2?
- Oh, damn it. Damn it.

Look, look,
we just can't have people

coming in and out
of here.

You need to lock
all the exits.

No phone calls, and that is
the emergency-response protocol

that we will follow
until Hazmat gets here,

if it comes to that.

You're gonna be hearing
a lot of noises,

a lot of banging.

That's us looking for that leak.
That's normal.

The most important thing

is for you guys
to just keep your distance.

Okay, let's go, let's go,
let's go! Lock it up!

Come on!
Lock it up!

Oh, there's no way anybody's
gonna crash our party now.

Jesse, I need you
to get Maddy out of town.

Larry's back.

Larry? How the hell --

what is Larry doing
back in town?

I don't know much,
but Maddy knows the drill.

The minute you say,

"It's a Disney World
kind of day,"

she'll grab the shotgun
and go.

Keep her mind off it, will you?
Oh, she loves the teacups.

Sam, you're scaring me.
Do you think Larry's gonna --

Just breathe.
Stay calm.

How am I supposed to stay calm?
My wife is --

Your wife
is gonna be fine.

She's the only thing keeping
Michael Westen

from snapping Larry's neck,
and he knows it.

So, just calm down.
Everything's gonna be --

Oh, God.

Sam...I got here 2 minutes ago,
and it was too late.

Where's my wife?
Where's Claire?

I'm sorry.

No, you can't --
you said he wouldn't kill her!

Claire!

- Claire!
- Anson.

Anson,
you can't go over there.

- Where's my wife?
- I'm sorry.

I don't get it.

I mean, Larry's a monster,

but that woman
was his only leverage.

Why kill her?

It doesn't make
any sense.

Anson, look, I know it's hard
to focus right now,

but the man
who killed your wife,

he's gonna be out of the country
in a matter of hours

if you don't help us.

How? What can I do?

You need to tell us
everything you know

about what Larry is doing.

Where did he take Michael?

I gave him, uh, the codes
for the British Consulate,

the access codes.

Sam...

Look, I don't want to
leave you here like this,

but Sam and I have --
- No. If you're going after

the son of bitch that killed
Claire, I'm coming with you.

I want to see him go down.
I want to see him dead.

Let's go.

Any idea what they feed you
in an Albanian prison?

I don't know.
Yogurt?

I have no idea.

I ate it every day
for 8 months.

I still couldn't tell you
what it was.

You fishing for an apology,
Larry?

You gonna let me go
if I say I'm sorry

I didn't roll over
and let you ruin my life?

Nah, I don't suppose so.

Well, then,
let's do this.

Fine. Up you go.

Well, I need a shield
for the sparks.

Cardboard should do it.
I'll check the copy room.

Oh, and go call your friends?
No, I don't think so.

Get your ass up there
and start cutting.

You'll be fine.

If anyone's used to getting
a little burned, it's you.

Level-3 contagion facilities

are designed with massive
exhaust systems

to quickly remove harmful gases
in case of an emergency.

They're just about the only
type of ventilation shaft

a full-grown man can fit into,

so they can double
as a vertical passageway

to the next floor up.

But if you have to make
your own exit.

Ma'am, I told you.

I don't care what kind of purse
you left upstairs --

It's a Fendi, and it has
a very nice reward in it

for the handsome guard
who saves my life

by letting me go grab it.

No one's allowed in today,
period.

Believe me.
I'm doing you a favor.

But --

No luck?

Larry spooked those guards
somehow.

The place
is locked down tight.

Can't you warn the guards?
W-w-won't they help?

Look, if we send a couple
of Rent-A-Cops up there --

hell, even if we send
a slew of real cops up there --

this is gonna get bloody.

So, that's it?
Wh-- he gets away with it?!

He's not getting away
with anything.

We just have to find another way
into the building.

My feeling exactly, Fi.
Look. Check this out.

See that?
It's a freight access,

but it goes
right inside the building.

And under the circumstances...

maybe we should just blast
our way in.

Oh, Sam...

you're finally speaking
my language.

What is that?

It's a block of C-4.
You should stand back.

Anson, listen.

You're gonna stay here, okay?
This is gonna happen fast.

When that door gets opened,

we only got one shot to
get up there and surprise him.

Michael, are you okay?

Oh, Michael is just fine,

at least
for the moment.

What are you after,
Larry?

You know, you are probably not
the first person

I would tell that to,

so why don't you
do me a favor

and hold all your questions
till forever?!

Now, I have something
I want to explain.

I think you know by now
I never wanted to kill Michael.

Touch him, you are dead.

Oh, that is
pretty tough talk

coming from
a tiny, little psychopath

in, what are those,
Capri pants?

Where the hell is he?

Hello!

Hi, Sam.
Oh, look at you.

I see Jenny Craig
has done her magic.

Thinner but not smarter.

Larry,
you got two choices --

whatever you're after
or your freedom.

Now, you let Michael
out of there,

you can watch us
drive way.

You live to fight another day.
If you don't --

Shut up, you gas bag!

This is not
a conversation!

This is me telling you...

that if you try anything,
I will see you coming,

and I will kill him.

Believe that.

You know what?
He's bluffing.

Larry may be
a murderous ghoul,

but he's always had
a soft spot for Mike.

No.

He said, "I never wanted to
kill Michael."

He's talking about
something that hasn't happened,

as if it were
in the past.

That's never a good sign
coming from a sociopath.

What are you saying?

That no matter what we do,
he's gonna...

I'm so sorry.

Well, you got to love
the Brits.

About as good
at decorating a consulate

as they are at holding on
to their colonies.

- Let's just do the job.
- You know, a funny thing happened

while you were up
in that vent.

Our buddy Anson showed up
out front with Fi and Sam.

I warned you,
and I told you not to test me.

Now, you are gonna do
what I brought you here to do.

And what's that, Larry?

You're gonna plant a report
in a diplomatic pouch.

A few nice people
are gonna rot in prison,

and a few million dollars
lands in my bank account.

You know, if you want to earn
some money,

I can do it without you hurting
innocent people.

Stop the act, man.
Stop it.

I know your holier-than-thou
Boy Scout routine by heart.

And you know
what else I know?

I know something
that nobody else knows.

You deserved
to be burned.

Oh.

Have we forgotten about
Chechnya?

I didn't do anything
in Chechnya.

Oh. Oh, is that
what you tell yourself?

You stood there.

You watched it happen.

You let me kill
those people!

And then you helped me
cover it up,

because that was the job!

Yeah! I did!

I'm just like you, Larry!

Is that what you want?

You know what I want,
Michael?

I want you to choose.

You're either a civilian,
or you're an operator.

And until you choose...

you're just pathetic.

Now, clean yourself up.

We got work to do.

Watch where
you're bleeding, kid.

I'm gonna wipe
the security cam

so they won't know
who came through the wall.

But it won't do any good

if you smear your DNA
all over their furniture.

Here.

Where are we
planting this?

There's that "we" again.

All right,
the outgoing diplomatic pouch

is in the vault
right over there,

and access
is remotely controlled

from this office
right here.

Clever. It makes a break-in
a two-man job.

So, you go into the vault.

Oh, oh,
and wouldn't you love the chance

to have me trapped
in an airtight cage?

No. You're going in.

Well, then, you'll never know for
sure whether I planted the file.

You see these frown lines
on my face?

You see, I was not, in fact,
born yesterday.

Come on.
I want to show you something.

I will be watching you
the whole way.

Now, you go in there.

You put the documents
in the diplomatic pouch.

You log it in
to the computer.

You wait until I buzz you
into the vault,

then you switch the pouches,
and we go home.

- Got it?
- I got it.

Let's do this, huh?

Oh, and, Michael?

Stay out of trouble.

We do remember what happens
when you test me, right?

How could I forget?

Bingo.

Okay.

Bye-bye.

Before cellphones
were invented,

it was much harder
to call out to an office

without everyone else
in the building seeing

that you were on the line.

Diplomatic spies in the '80s

devised an easy solution
to the problem --

a corded handset
wired to a fax machine

gives you the freedom
to make calls

without showing a line in use.

If you can find a way to hide
from the security cameras,

you can call out without anyone
knowing what you're doing.

I am saying we storm the building,

we take out the guards
with rubber bullets,

and we go after Larry
with the real ones!

- Fiona...
- You are talking about an armed assault

of a friendly government consulate, Fi!
- Oh, please.

- The British are far from friendly!
- Come on. Look.

I think that --
if you don't succeed

in getting Mike killed,
the three of us are

gonna wind up in prison
for the rest of our lives!

Fiona, I think
your phone is ringing.

Hello?

Fi, Larry knows
you're outside.

You got to forget about
the consulate and pull back.

If you can get
to Anson's wife,

get her out of
that bomb collar and --

Michael, she's dead.

What?

No, no, no, no.
Why would Larry --

Whatever Larry has planned for
you this time, it is not good.

Can you run?

No, he's got eyes
all over this place.

Yeah, we found that out
the hard way.

What do you want us
to do?

I don't know what you could do.

He'll see any move coming.
The windows are bulletproof.

I think I'm just gonna have to
plant this file

in the vault like he wants

and try to undo the damage
if I survive.

Okay. Okay, great.

Stay in the vault.
Keep your head down.

Fi, what are you
talking about?

Good. And I'll handle
everything else.

Fi, whatever you are planning,
you have to walk away.

You ca-- Fi!

Michael found us a way in.

It's on the east side
of the building.

Okay.
Now we're in business.

We're gonna need the
jaws of life to cut through the wall.

There's one on the fire station
in Brickell.

You two go get that,
and I'll keep watch here.

Fi, how's that supposed to
go down, exactly?

There's no time to explain,
okay? Just go do it!

- Okay, okay.
- Everything will be fine.

Uncut RDX,

sometimes known as T-4
or cyclonite,

is the most powerful military-grade
high explosive there is.

It's an incredibly stable solid

that can withstand
small-arms fire,

but when detonated,
expands faster

than a plasticized formulation
like C-4.

Simply put,
T-4 is the good stuff --

a lethal explosive that creates
a wall of fire and shrapnel

that will decimate everything
and everyone in its path.

Bye-bye.

Okay, kid,
it's like we were never here.

Now, let's make this snappy.

All right,
swap out your file

for the one in box...

378-Baker.

What have we here?

You're gonna have to
walk out of there eventually.

I have always admired you,
Fiona.

I mean,
with Michael's smarts

and your stomach
for violence,

I mean, hell, the two of you
could almost be me.

Ohh!

Wow.

Now -- now, what part
didn't you hear, dear?

This is bulletproof.

Go get a .50 cal --
then maybe you got a shot.

Now, listen, I want to do you
a favor, Fiona.

Go home now. Seriously.

You're not gonna want to see
the way this ends.

Oh, you're wrong, Larry.

I've always wanted to see
how this ends.

Oh, God.

What was that? Michael.

Oh, God.

Oh, Michael.

Oh, thank God.

Oh.

Fi, why did you plant the bomb
in the lobby?

I didn't.

I made one targeted explosive,
just enough for Larry.

Somebody else must have --

The security guards --

they're dead.

Fi!

I don't understand why Larry
had bombs in that lobby...

Or how my detonator
could have set them off.

Sam and Jesse
are looking into it.

They're trying to
make sense of this.

Make sense of it?

Two innocent people
are dead.

You couldn't have known
what was going to happen, Fi.

Yeah, well, I knew...

how dangerous it could be.

That's why I lied to Sam.

When he found out what happened,
the look on his face...

No one's blaming you
for this.

Well, they should.

It was
my finger on that button.

I killed those men.

And cut.

That was really,
really great, you two.

The tears...

The "I killed those men."

Really, really lovely.

How the hell
did you get in here?

I...borrowed this
from Fiona's purse

while she was consoling me.

Dropped a bug in there, too,
while I was at it.

You might want to
get rid of that.

I got what I need.

What the hell is this?

I like to call it leverage.

I hold your girlfriend's fate
in my hands.

Here's the deal.

The tape...is just icing.

I have you blowing up that
building six ways from Sunday,

and if you lay a hand on me,

there's a guy who sends
a mountain of evidence

to the CIA and MI6.

I've gone to a lot of trouble
to hold all the cards today,

and...that's where we are.

You were behind it all?

Behind Larry?

Behind the consulate?

Your wife?

Larry didn't kill his wife.

You don't think
I'd actually...

blow up my wife,
do you?

Who was she?

What kind of question is that?
I don't know.

I think her name was
"some lady."

The hard part was pulling strings
to get Larry out of prison.

I couldn't
let him know who I was

because
I had to lead him here

and to...well, me.

But Larry was worth it,
though.

Worth it.

I saw his file.

That creepy father/son thing
you two had

was just
what the doctor ordered.

You took quite a big risk,
Anson.

He could have killed you.

You still don't get it,
do you?

I hired him.
I hired Larry.

He didn't know it,

but I've been pulling
the strings all along.

No. There's no way
you could have known

what would happen
back there.

I couldn't?

Honey, I really am
a very good psychiatrist,

but I wouldn't need to be
to know

that nobody brings out the
mad bomber in you like Larry.

And a British flag

sure wasn't gonna stop you
from killing him.

I just added a couple of bombs
to the equation.

Who the hell are you?

I'm the last one
of them.

I'm the man
who didn't want to be found,

the one you missed
in Caracas.

After all these years...

That's it?
Hey. Hey.

That's it?!

I'm the one who sent Tavian
to frame you for killing Max

when you wouldn't
leave well enough alone.

Stay with me, Max.

Max!

And I'm the one
who watched you tear down

every last shred of the
organization that burned you.

The organization I spent
half my life building.

What do you want
from us?!

For starters,
I want you to let go of me.

Right now.

That's better.

Next order of business,

in your meeting tomorrow
with Agent Pearce,

I expect you
to keep your mouth shut.

After that,
we'll talk about

all the other things
I want from you.

It's a long list.

Yogurt parfait.

Nice choice.

Max's murder
is officially closed.

I'm supposed to tell you

that your standing with
the Agency won't be affected.

And what exactly is
my standing with the Agency?

You have fans
and you have detractors.

Let me guess
which side you're on.

I do finally get to make
the call to Max's wife,

give that poor woman
some closure.

I guess I have you
to thank for that.

When you call her,

you tell her I was with him
at the end.

He said he loved her.
You tell her that.

You're a damn good Agent,
Pearce.

Maybe I shouldn't say it,

but I hope
our paths cross again.

What?

Michael, Langley wants to
keep using a burned spy.

How many people you think they're
gonna loop in on something like that?

You're still gonna be
my Agency contact.

Whether either of us
likes it or not.

One quick thing
before you go.

I don't know
if you've noticed,

but Miami has turned into
a bit of a hot spot.

Yeah, I heard about this.
Are we on this?

No. The feds
are running point.

But...keep an ear out,
okay?

Sure thing.

For a spy, finding out
you've been compromised,

that someone
has something on you,

is the ultimate nightmare.

The worst part for someone
who has spent a career

training for every situation

is knowing that there is
nothing that you can do

but grit your teeth
and try to figure out

exactly how bad
the nightmare is going to be.

I watched you keep it
short and sweet

with Agent Pearce today.

I appreciate that.

I need to know
that I can trust you.

You know everything about us.
We don't know a thing about you.

That's true.

Once upon a time,

I was just a young psychiatrist
working for the D.I.A.

It was my job to evaluate

the ones
who were being reassigned,

who were retiring...

The ones
who've been burned.

I hated to see that...talent
go to waste.

You were there
in the beginning.

It was just me and management,
two guys with a dream.

It was a dazzling idea,
like a bolt from the blue.

Use burned spies

to carry out ops

that the legitimate intelligence
agencies wouldn't touch.

And then came
Michael Westen.

I should have followed
my gut.

Initially,
I opposed your recruitment.

What changed your mind?

Something your mother said
in one of our sessions.

Although, as it turns out,

you were less easy to manipulate
than she led me to believe.

My mother? What?

I did my homework.

I had to know
what makes Michael Westen tick.

So, about five years ago,

I arranged to substitute
for Madeline's therapist.

She didn't know
who she was talking to.

You son of a bitch.

That's an interesting turn
of phrase.

Funny how that was
on the tip of your tongue.

It's your father
you should be upset with.

The things that man gave us
before he passed away...

What do you want from us?

Look at your boyfriend,
honey.

He can barely hear
a word I'm saying.

Well, that's all the time
we have for today.

We'll pick this up again
in the morning.

Enjoy the sunset.
It's gonna be getting dark soon.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==