All language subtitles for the.blacklist.s08e15.720p.hdtv.x264-syncopy.en

Please hurry, Ms. Keen. He
doesn't like to be kept waiting.

Is this how it works around here?

He snaps his fingers

and everyone just trembles?

If they have any sense.

- Aren't you coming?
- Mm.

Ah. Thank God you're here.

The boys and I were chatting
about failed expectations.

I'll catch you up. First I said...

"Kansas was an awful bloodbath,

and, sure, that was fun,

but you let Reddington get away."

Then they said, "So sorry.

We promise to do better next time.

Please, Neville, what about
my wife and kids?"

To which I said, "Wife and kids?

What about my wife? What about my kids?"

You're insane!

Why? Because I stabbed a man
who was suffocating?

I suppose that was rather crazy of me.

Almost as crazy as partnering
with an FBI agent.

No... No!

You find him at his girlfriend's.

You have him at gunpoint,
but somehow he gets away.

Why is that? Why don't I have

everything you promised me, Agent Keen?

I have a lead.

On Reddington.

I can prove he's N-13

and that he's in communication
with the Russians.

Do you, now?

I suppose there's only
one way to find out.

Go. Pursue. Live the dream.

But, Elizabeth...

Don't disappoint me again.

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

Anne? Stay with me.

Belsky reached out. He said it's urgent.

Anne had a daughter.

Has a daughter.

You must put that behind you.

Belsky has information

that concerns Townsend and Elizabeth.

Then I suppose we'll act on it.

Raymond, there's something else.

Paula called.

Glen's mother, Paula?

Yes. She wanted you to call
or come by the house.

And then she said something
about "new irons in the fire."

Hot ones, she said.

Oh, my God. Sounds like she's dating.

That's what I said.

And she laughed and said,
"No, nothing like that.

This is business.

Serious business."

And then she said,
"Alright, then, Dembe.

I'll see you and Raymond at the house."

What happened to Bill and Steven?

She knows, Raymond.

Oh, my.

Histiaeus.

What's to be learned from him,

other than tyranny and duplicity?

There you have it.
The history of mankind...

Tyranny and duplicity.

You've come a long way

from the 8th Directorate, comrade...

Uh, Professor Belsky.

Although I see your affinity

for authoritarians hasn't changed.

Histiaeus wanted to organize a revolt

but feared discovery by the Persians,

so he shaved the hair
of his favorite slave

and had the treasonous message
tattooed on his head.

When the hair grew back,

he sent him off to spread the word,

which became the first recorded act

of steganography in warfare.

Of course, my KGB ciphers

are no more relevant today
than tattooing a head,

so you can imagine my surprise

when I stumbled across this.

I don't understand.
Are you getting leads

- from a psychic now?
- To predict the future?

I don't know, Harold. At $5.99 a minute,

Madame Zorba might be a bargain
at twice the price.

If there was a Madam Zorba.
But there isn't.

You're showing me a fake ad?

It's not an ad. It's a message.

A code that I believe Townsend
and Elizabeth may be using

to communicate with an associate.

"Love is a knot that
even death cannot untie."

It sounds more like
a Hallmark card than a code.

Having failed to kill me,

I suspect Elizabeth and Townsend
may be planning

to move against those around me...

In my world and possibly in yours.

Her fight is with you, not us.

Yes, but you're with me,

and she's with Townsend,

who takes great pride in displaying

his utter disregard for human life.

"Love is a knot" isn't an aphorism.

It's a clue to decrypting the code.

As you well know, during the Cold War,

nobody mastered the art
of clandestine communication

better than the Soviets,

their pièce de résistance
being a cipher machine

capable of encrypting or decrypting text

into 10 different languages.

The Russkiy Uzel... The Russian Knot.

The Kremlin destroyed most of them

just prior to the fall
of the Soviet Union,

so Lord knows how Townsend
got his hands on one,

but clearly he did, and if we
want to decrypt that message,

we need to get one, too.

Somehow I don't think this is something

we can order on Amazon.

The only other machine I know of

is on display in a museum in Minsk.

Beautiful city. Amazing opera house.

I'd forgotten how beautiful
until yesterday.

- You were just in Minsk?
- Yes.

In order to make a generous
donation to said museum

from a private collection.

Nana was born in Minsk.

I can think of no better way
to honor her passing

than with this gift.

You gave the museum a Cézanne?

A stolen one,

which, like all good
and greedy bureaucrats,

they're trying to decide
whether to report.

Imagine their embarrassment

when the FBI finds it
in their possession.

You donated the painting.

Now you want us to go and get it back.

Yes. Along with the Russian Knot.

And why would they give us that?

Last I checked, your country
had sanctions in place

against both the president
of Belarus and his son.

They're not giving you anything.

- You want us to steal it.
- Of course.

What the hell do you think
we've been talking about?

Okay, this cipher machine

is actually The hpretty fascinating.

You use the little keyboard
to type up your message,

which it then jumbles
into a random series of letters.

Then, on the receiving end,
you need another machine

to turn the gobbledygook
back into regular text.

Okay, but this thing's
like 50 years old.

I mean, can't you crack
the billboard code without it?

Well, it's not exactly
Orphan Annie's decoder ring.

The complexity of the Knot's
algorithm compounds

every letter after it is entered,

netting us a trillion,
trillion, trillion...

...different possibilities.

I know we'd like to find out what Keen

and Townsend are up to,
but are we really

talking about robbing
the Belarusian War Museum?

I, uh... I feel like we've done worse.

Reddington made it clear there's
no diplomatic angle here.

Townsend has illicit relationships

with the Council of Ministers.

If we reach out for help,
he'll be tipped.

Yeah, but to what? We don't even
know what Keen's planning.

Okay, Ruddiger, what do ya got?

This bores through rock

using ultrasonic vibrations.

Ha ha! Hell of a lot quieter, too.

It's not very deep.

Don't we need to get through
two feet of concrete?

Only needs to be deep enough
for the SCDA to do its thing

and to keep me
out of the boss's heavy bag.

Of course, what you gain
in noise reduction,

you lose in predictability.

It takes time to heat up and expand,

for the pressure to build,
until finally...

Boom.

Talk to me about access.

Once we're in, we need a way to
smuggle the cipher device out.

The lab's mocking up a fake to
leave in its place as we speak.

We'll need to loop the
security feeds to make the swap.

Okay, but how do we gain entry
into their security passage?

Silva Terzian.

Immigrated from Armenia.

Gets a tea at the same café

every morning before she goes to work.

She's our in.

Ho-ho!

Pack it up. It's time to go.

Wait. Like, now? Why so soon?

The breach happens Friday night.

That's when the museum
is hosting its fundraiser.

Staff won't like the FBI presence,

won't want to cause a scene
in front of the donors,

which means they're more likely
to fall for our diversion.

- Enjoy.
- Thanks.

Oh!

I am so sorry!

- No, it's okay.
- Let me help you with that.

- Don't...
- Don't worry about it.

Oh, hey! You forgot your wallet.

Thank you.

Anyone unclear? Any questions?

I think the big question is,
what's Liz really up to?

If we're successful in bringing

this device home from Minsk,

we have a good shot at finding out.

Let me know if we have a problem.

At the terminus, go left.

Then straight ahead 200 feet.

Once you're on site, you need to be

12 feet, 2 inches off the center
of the north wall.

Your credentials appear to be in order,

but I'm afraid you're
in the wrong country.

I go wherever he takes me.

Notorious fugitive Raymond Reddington.

I'm told you accepted
a stolen painting from him.

He called himself Lloyd Wilke.

I could alert INTERPOL.

I'm sure they'd love
to swarm your museum

and arrest you as an accomplice
after the fact.

But that might kill the mood
of this lovely evening.

Yes. That would be terrible.

Or you could have your people
show my team

your security feeds
while I look at that Cézanne.

Four minutes.

Alright. You get started.

I got the sensors.

Beautiful city, by the way.

It's true what they say.
Minsk isn't just concrete.

There is some really beautiful concrete.

Hey, Aram. It's Cooper.
Something about a legal attaché.

- We'll catch up in a second.
- Alright.

_

_

_

_

_

_

Not trying to cowboy anyone, guys.

Just want to take
a quick peek at the footage.

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

Sensors are down.

- They're here.
- Who's here?

The Task Force.

What the hell are they doing here?

What do you think?

Reddington must have sent them

to get the device before we can.

We have to hurry.

Hey, Aram, we're in place.

Okay, just give me a minute to record

enough footage to loop the feeds.

_

_

_

Okay. The cameras are bypassed.
You're good to go.

- Hurry, hurry.
- Okay. Any minute now.

Don't answer that.

It's about to blow.

What...

Hello?

I just had a dream about you.

I'm sorry, Neville.
Now's not a good time.

No, don't interrupt or I'll forget.

I was at a wedding,

about to greet the bride and groom,

but everyone was crying.

And suddenly I realized...
This isn't a wedding.

It's a funeral.

Aram, we're ready to open the case.

Are the sensors down?

Uh, guys? This is weird,

but the sensors are already off.

I hate funerals.

I'm absolutely squeamish
about open caskets.

I was terrified. And that's when I felt

someone squeeze my hand.

And it was you.
You were holding my hand.

And I wasn't afraid anymore.

Oh, and guess who was in the casket.

- I don't know.
- Reddington.

And he looked hideous,
all sunken and yellow.

I'm sorry, Neville. I really have to...

I know I was harsh before,

but this dream is a good sign.

I am rooting for you, Elizabeth.

I gotta go.

He said he had a dream about me.

He is creepy.

What the hell's going on?

Okay.

Run.

- Ahh!
- What are you doing?

The badge. I left it
in the furnace room.

- Forget the badge!
- We can't get through

the security gate without it.

- We'll go on foot!
- I'll be back.

I'll meet you in the van.

Ugh.

It's her. She's in the
building. Keen's got the cipher!

Aram, tell me you have eyes.

Got her. Basement,
near the east stairwell.

Agent Park is right around the corner.

Oh, no.

It really is a lovely piece.

Ahh!

I always wanted a hero moment.

I got the badge.

Let's go! Grab the Knot!

Yeah, I got it. I'm right behind you.

Where's Park?

What, are you gonna shoot me?

- For this?
- You don't understand.

I'm dead without the device
that's in that bag.

Shoot me, then. Show me there's
nothing left of the old Elizabeth Keen.

The cipher. I have to have it.

Why? You mean for Townsend

so we can't read his messages?

Townsend?

He doesn't know I'm...

Why would you say that?

Liz, where are you?

Liz, we need to go right now.

Park!

Hey.

- Is she okay?
- Yeah. I'm okay.

Where's Liz? Where'd she go?

You're not taking the painting?

My concern is finding Reddington.

Agents from our Art Theft unit
will be in touch,

and they'll want to discuss the details.

Excuse me.

We got a problem.

What kind of problem?

A Liz Keen problem.

My pumpkin cheesecake thumbprints

are sort of legendary.

They were Glen's favorite.

Thank you, Paula.

Yes. Thank you, Paula.

You're welcome, Steve, Bill.

Paula, is there anything
you'd like to tell us?

I used canned pumpkin.

Ahh.

You know who I am.

I do.

I am so sorry.

I know it's a big secret.

How did you find out, Paula?

I found this under Jelly's bed.

I say "manuscript,"

but it's really more of a memoir.

Glen was writing a book?

About your time together,

the hijinks and shenanigans.

Oh, don't worry.

I don't think he sent it
to any publishers yet.

I can't believe this.

- I can.
- Me too!

It makes a whole lot more sense

than Jelly being Huey Lewis' muse.

Paula, why are you
telling me all of this now?

That's the thing.

I've been retired from Ma Bell
for some time now,

and I've been keeping to my budget,

but after Jelly died,
without his income,

um, things have gotten sort of... tight.

Now, I-I'm not asking for a handout.

I went back to work
at the phone company part-time,

but if you could maybe lend me...

How much do you need?

$172.

And I'll pay it back with interest.

Or I could work it off,
pressing that suit

or maybe cooking you two
a nice cream can dinner.

Well, that does sound nice,
but, Paula, this is a gift...

One I offer you in exchange
for your continued discretion.

No gifts. I have to insist
on paying you back.

Then let's just say I'm
purchasing Glen's manuscript.

Well, that would mean a lot to him.

You say you've gone back to work
at the phone company?

Yeah, the cellular one, the big one.

18 hours a week now.

Why do you ask?

What on earth?

Reddington must have
donated the painting

so he could case the museum.

What do you think he was after?

The Russian Knot.

That machine is one-of-a-kind.

Lucky we stopped him.

Yes. Thank God for the FBI.

Your local police are gonna
want to secure the area.

We should clear everyone out.

Tell me that was the fake.

Hm. Thank God for the FBI.

We got the device,

and the Art Theft unit got the Cézanne.

Excellent. Please tell me

you made it to the opera.

We didn't. Keen made sure of that.

Oh, of course. She was there.

That's what I can't square...
Is the "of course" of it all.

You told me that she and Townsend

were using one of these devices
to encrypt their communiqués,

that you'd intercepted those communiqués

but couldn't decrypt them
unless we went to Minsk

and got the other device.

Something Elizabeth would never
have wanted you to do.

What I can't square is how
she knew we were doing it.

Or why, when I mentioned
Townsend's name,

Keen acted like he had no idea
she was there.

Well, I can't speak to any of that,

but all that matters
is that you have the device

and I have the ability
to show you how to use it

to read the text on that billboard,

which I'll do as soon as I finish

with a pressing appointment.

More pressing than stopping
Townsend and finding Elizabeth?

For the moment.

Paula, tell me something good.

Well, you know Ernie in billing
has had his eye on me

since his missus passed,

so I took him up on an offer
to have dinner at Perkins.

I sort of sweet-talked him.

Anyway, I told him I did
one of those spit tests,

found out I had a half-sister,

and was just desperate
to get an address.

Emma Foster.

Date of birth, address, phone number.

And he just went and got it for you?

I always told Jelly
you get more bees with honey.

You are the bee's knees, Paula.

Oh, and what's this?

A receipt from Perkins.

If it's not too much,

I'd like to get reimbursed
for the chicken dinner.

Ernie wanted to go Dutch.

Ugh. Ernie.

- Ressler.
- Reddington's lying to you.

You want to tell me about it?
How about you turn yourself in?

He told you I wanted
the device to keep him

from reading messages
between me and Townsend.

Yeah, a theory you proved

by trying to prevent us from getting it.

I wasn't there to keep you
from reading my messages.

I was there to get it
so that I could read his.

Wait. The billboard's his?

Billboard? I don't know anything
about a billboard.

What I know is Reddington uses
the Knot to decrypt messages

in classified ads
in The Washington Post.

If he's decrypting messages
using a Russian Knot,

then why send us to Minsk
to get another one?

So that I couldn't read
what he and his handler

are saying to each other.

That's who he's talking to.

If I can prove he's talking
to the Russians...

You can prove he's N-13.

I am not the enemy. He is.

Please. Let me prove it to you.

Keen wants to meet.

What she wants is to destroy the device

so we can't know what
she and Townsend are planning.

No, I think she wants
to use the device to prove

that Reddington's communicating
with his Russian handler.

I feel like we should
at least hear her out.

You think we should give her a big hug.

She probably needs one.

Look, the Russian Knot
is a relic of the Cold War

that creates an analog code.

Newspaper classifieds
barely exist anymore.

This sounds a lot more
like Mr. Reddington

than it does Agent Keen
or Neville Townsend.

I appreciate your reluctance,
Agent Park,

but if there's a chance
this could finally prove

that Reddington's a Russian agent,

I think we need to hear
what Agent Keen has to say.

She's gonna want to know
that I have your word on this,

that we're not gonna double-cross her.

You have it. Now call her back.

Cooper signed off. Tell me
how this is gonna work.

Grab a pen. And listen carefully.

This is Assistant Director
Harold Cooper,

authorization code 39587.

I need to requisition a team

for surveillance and apprehension.

Who is it?

Emma Foster?

Who's asking?

My name is Farwell Smith.
Your mother's attorney.

You worked with my mom?

I helped her with
some of her estate planning.

She never mentioned you.

Most of my clients don't
mention me to their children.

Wills and trusts can be awkward.

It's all part of the job,

in order to deliver
a little bit of good news

at an otherwise mournful time.

M-Mournful?

I'm... I'm sorry. I thought you knew.

Anne passed away.

I am so sorry for your loss.

Hey, Keen. I'm here.

There's a man selling pretzels

at the 72nd street crossover

above the fountain. Buy one.

He's headed into the park.

Keen knows our vehicles
will have to pull back.

Beta team, stand down.

Delta, can you go on foot?

Drop your cell in the trash.

Down the steps, by the fountain.

I don't have a visual.
Somebody get me eyes.

Beta, clear emergency access.

So you have bodyguards now.

Is that it?

You have Reddington's ad?

Did Reddington tell you
how he knew I'd be in Minsk?

I think he thinks I told you.

Guess that's the romantic in him.

Okay. Enter the number first.

That belong to your mother?

Please tell me that you
at least tried calling that.

It's not a phone number. It's a key

meant to orient the machine's settings.

And, yes, this book
belonged to my mother,

along with a storage locker
filled with half-solved clues

about Reddington and a series
of encrypted messages.

There's more than one?

And if we can decrypt this one,
we can decrypt all of them.

Okay. Now what?

The circled letters, in order.

I have eyes. Should we move in?

Yes, but keep your distance
until units are in place.

We don't know what kind
of protection she has,

and I want to keep this clean.

C. M. A.

That's it.

You okay? Keen, what is it?

I don't know how Reddington
knew I was coming.

I don't know how he knows
half the things he does.

But I do know that I'm right about this.

I just wish you'd believe me.

I do believe you.

I wish you didn't need proof.

That's the message?

Numbers?

I don't understand.

Maybe we did it wrong.

I mean, maybe we need to try again.

Damn it. Keen, hey! This isn't me!

- Hey!
- Send them in. Now.

We're made. Go. Now! Move in.

Keen, wait! They lied to me!

Keen. Hey. Stop.

Stop. Keen, they lied to me.

I had no idea. I swear.

Oh, my God.

She's somewhere under the terrace.

All units, move in.
I repeat, move in now.

This can't be right.

Your mother had a considerable estate.

We talked about it
as recently as a year ago.

I was gonna get like $3,000,
not $3 million.

Perhaps she wanted it
to be a pleasant surprise.

Did you know she was in love
with a wanted fugitive?

She told you that?

She called last week, about him

and how these people had come to
where she lived to kill him.

I tried asking her what was going on,

but all she wanted was
for me to protect myself,

that the people who were after him

might come after her or me.

I thought it was crazy talk.

But she insisted
I drop everything and...

go into hiding.

So I came here

and waited.

She told me she was hoping
to stay with a friend

in a cabin on a lake,

and she'd call me
when everything settled down.

That was the last time
I ever spoke to her.

I don't know what to say.

Did you know her well?

I did.

Then you can understand
why I want to remember

her love and kindness,

not her connection to a criminal.

I can't do that if any
of this money comes from him.

Can you promise me that it doesn't?

I can't promise you that.

But I can promise you that your mother

wanted you to have everything

that she could possibly give you.

That would include this.

Think about it.

You could always donate it to charity,

set up a scholarship.

Put on a play.

At the very least, pay all your bills,

buy something for yourself,
and then, if you want,

you can give the rest of it away.

Just think about it.

How did she die?

It was an accident.

Caused by the fugitive?

No.

But he... He was responsible.

Tell me, a man like that...

Do you think he'll ever get
what's coming to him?

I do.

You're crazy. You do know that.

I like to think of it as determined.

Yeah, determined to get yourself killed.

And for what?
We couldn't crack the code.

You had the messages
and the machine to decrypt it,

and what did you get?

A whole lot of nothing.

I must be missing a step...

An input my mom didn't know about.

Say there is, and we figured it out.

You think the FBI's letting you
near that machine again?

Ressler gave you a shot.

He's not giving you another one.

How did Reddington know
we'd be in Minsk?

We didn't tell anybody.

We found the folder of classified ads.

We reviewed my mom's notes
on encryption.

We were told we needed
the Russian Knot to decrypt it,

and we went to Minsk to try and get it,

but where's the opening
for Reddington in that?

- Belsky.
- Belsky.

We trusted you.

And I value that trust,
but I value my life more.

Which is why you told Reddington.

I was told to report
any inquiry about a code

that requires the Russian Knot
to decrypt.

He was quite clear on how
important that was to him,

and I know what that means.

So the minute we showed you
the ads, you showed him.

She heard I was an expert

on the Russian Knot.

She knew the ads were a code

and was hoping I could decrypt them.

"Mid-30s. Brown hair. Blue eyes."

Well, I didn't tell him it was you,

but he seemed to know that already.

You told me I needed

a Russian Knot to decrypt the message.

Well, I got one,
and I still can't read it!

There are keys.
You need them to read the code.

I had them. The phone number.

Well, maybe there are more,

or the ones you had were wrong.

Well, give me the right ones, then!

I don't know them!

Well, then find me a person who does!

The only person who has the keys

is the one who encrypted the message.

Reddington.

Great.

Is there anything on Elizabeth?

Not a word.

Dembe has the faith
that comes from belief.

All I have are questions.

Why, how, what for, was it worth it?

The answer's no.

Whatever the outcome,
it most certainly was not.

Well, at least you have it.

I do. Along with the hope
that I'm not being played.

Alright. First, type in
the telephone number.

I assume the Cézanne has been
returned to its rightful place

at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford?

It has.

Now the first letter
of each word in order.

I gave up the commission on the sale

of a $20-million painting

and enraged the consigliere
who entrusted me with the task.

Do you really think I'd do all
that just to play you, Harold?

A bunch of numbers?

Yes, until you substitute each number

for the corresponding letter
of the alphabet...

1 becomes A, 2 becomes B, and so forth.

Do you have a pen?

Ah, good.

Alright, let's hurry.

I'm morbidly curious
to find out what painful end

Elizabeth has in store for me.

The code was the address
for some abandoned warehouse,

a date, and a time.

Instructions for a hit.

But the device was spitting out
random numbers.

What... What were we missing?

One more step.
Each number in the sequence

represents a corresponding
letter of the alphabet.

So the billboard was a message.

Which means Reddington
told us the truth,

and Keen didn't.

I understand why you're upset.

I wasn't honest with you.

For what it's worth,
I wish I'd been wrong

to doubt your judgment about Keen.

You were wrong.

How can you say that?

She said this was about keeping her

from Mr. Reddington's intel
when we now know

it was about keeping him
from reading hers.

Look. I know that's what it looks like.

It looks that way
because it is that way.

You need to accept that.

Why? So you stop following me?

- Raymond!
- Hello, Paula!

Thank you for coming. How was the drive?

Did Dembe talk your ear off?

It was just great.

Sometimes I like to lean my head
on the window next to me

so I can feel all of
the little bumps on the road,

and my vision starts to flutter

and I just space out,
like I'm in a dream.

That sounds nice.

You know what also sounds nice?

Employment.

Did you get a new job?

I did not.

I'm offering one.

What kind of job?

A service provider.

Are you asking me
to find people for you?

Like Jelly Bean did?

Why don't we sit, have a cup of tea,

share some tawdry tales,
have a laugh or two,

and then we'll drive you home.

You can put your head
up against the glass

and go to your happy place,

and I can tell you what it is
I have in mind.

- Ressler.
- Hey.

Thank God you're alright, Keen.

I don't even know why
I'm returning this call.

Look. I'm sorry.
They used me to lure you out.

Yeah, well, a lot of good that did.

You're right. But at least now

I know what those numbers mean.

Because Cooper handed the device
over to Reddington.

- He did.
- So they decoded his fake message.

They think I'm a liar.

No, but I don't, and I'll prove it.

I know the step that you're missing.

Look. Each number stands for a letter...

1 is A, 2 is B, 3 is C.

They're using alphanumeric substitution.

- Exactly.
- Hang on.

Okay. 17 is Q.

16 is O. No.

16 is P.

18 is R. 1 is A.

- 14.
- N.

- 16?
- P.

2 is B.

Wait a minute.
That doesn't make any sense.

What does it say, Keen?

QPRANPB. It's not a word.

Maybe it's backwards or the
letters of each word are jumbled.

I mean, Reddington told us
this is how it works.

It has to say something.

Oh, my God. That's it.

The Cyrillic alphabet.

We translated the numbers into English

because that's what Reddington did,

but his message was a fake
meant to throw us off.

_

Oh, my God.

Keen, what does it say?

"It's time. Mobilize assets."

A message from a Russian handler
to a Russian spy.

Reddington.

But what does he mean?
"It's time." Time for what?

Rise and shine, sleepyhead!

Elizabeth.

You wanted proof? I got your proof.

Proof that Reddington is N-13.

Proof that he's responsible

for what happened to your family.

And proof that my mother was innocent.

I can walk you through the details

after you catch your breath

and after you get it
through your thick skull

that you do not threaten me!

Because while we may be
partners in this hunt,

I do not work for you!