All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 09x04 - The Avenging Angel (No. 49).MeGusta+mSD+DEXTEROUS.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Trip, please tell me
this is the last time

we're gonna hear from that pissant.

I can't waste any more time in court

bickering about patent law
or intellectual infringement.

Listen, as soon as the star witness

took an unscheduled vacation,

Freeson's case was dead in the water.

Well, that's the best justice
money can buy.

You are now in sole control of Genocyte.

It's time for you to celebrate!

Oh.

I'm way ahead of you, esquire.

♪ I hardly ever sleep
Still a dream chaser ♪

♪ Remember it was small
Now the team major... ♪

♪ Yeah They threw me in the mix ♪

♪ Now I'm the game changer ♪

♪ One false move... ♪

There's a special
place in hell for people like you,

the rich and powerful
who play with others' lives

just because you can.

The world thinks that you're
in your castle celebrating,

but you're not.

In fact, you're haunted.

Read these.

No.

I understand.

You're used to giving orders,
not taking them,

feeling empowered,
so I-I give you some power.

You choose to read these,
or we kill you.

My name is Adam McHenry.

And this is my confession.

I'm a liar and a thief.

And to my best friend,

Andrew Freeson,

I'm so sorry.

You did well.

Just one more thing.

You have a date
with gravity, I'm afraid.

Wait. No. I read what you wanted.

You said that you wouldn't kill me!

Yes. Right. What I meant was

people will not think that I killed you.

They will hear your confession

and think that you killed yourself.

No. Wait! Please!

Like I said, you're haunted!

No! No!

Please! Wai...

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

A parking garage?

You woke up in a parking garage?

Near Dupont Circle.

I can't remember how I got there.

You said you were going
to a retirement party.

- Yeah, for Jim Ritter over at Justice.
- Right.

I had one drink, maybe two.

Honey, you don't sleep in the car

after one or two drinks.

Maybe it was more. I can't remember.

Harold, you scared the hell out of me.

If it makes you feel any better,

I scared the hell out of myself.

Not hearing from you,
not knowing where you were.

I waited by the phone all night.

And then when the phone did ring,

it was from my friend Beth,
and the way she sounded...

She asked me if I had heard
what had happened,

and I thought she was talking about you.

I'm sorry I scared you.

I'm fine.

I know.

And it means everything.

Honey, there's something else.

Yeah. Beth said something happened.

Who was she talking about?

Doug Koster.

What are you doing with a key
to our neighbor's cabin?

It happened before you got sick.

We were in such a different place.

You were working all the time.
I was lonely.

Beth kept in touch with him.

What happened to him?

He was shot and killed last night.

Where in the hell...

How do you like the place?

It's... It's nice.

It's our own
little hideaway in the woods,

just like at home.

Like at home. But not home.

No, not even close.

But thank you for finding it
for us, Heddie.

Mmm!

This is delicious. What is it?

A mate infusion,
from the yerba mate plant.

We grow them in our garden.

Mierce has two green thumbs

and an extraordinary knowledge

of everything that's good for you,

and everything else that isn't,

including people.

Speaking of, tell me about

the operations we still have running

with Oleg Nikovich.

Oh, he's provided us with contacts

to move minerals out of Afghanistan,

for which he's been well paid.

We moved $100 million worth last year,

taking 19% off the top.

So not exactly an arrangement
we want to upend.

Not if you like making 19% of
$100 million. Why do you ask?

Because Oleg has always been
a loyal partner and friend,

and yet, I need to take
something off his hands.

That's $19 million annually.

Don't piss him off, Raymond.

I don't intend to, but what I need

is locked away in that monstrosity

of a penthouse
he keeps as a tax shelter.

The man's there one week
out of the year at most.

He'll never even know it's gone.

Where's the building?

A toothpick of a place
on 57th Street in Manhattan.

You should call Rogelio.
He'll know the super.

Ah! Dembe.

Not seeing you,
I was beginning to wonder.

Thank you for coming, Heddie.

Oh, uh, I'm gonna take this to go.

It's fine. Take the gourd.

Let me know what Rogelio says.

Please, sit.

Would you like anything to drink?

No. Thank you.

Well, this is uncomfortable.

Because I arrested Vesco?

Vesco was a disappointment.

Brasilia was a tragedy.

We should talk about it.

Your burns, are they healing?

They are. I never thanked you

for coming back after I was injured.

I came back for Agnes.

You came back for me.

You stayed for Agnes.

I have a case.

So we're not going to
talk about Brasilia.

Two tech partners have a falling-out.

One accuses the other

of stealing his intellectual property.

He sues. He loses.

And what does the winner do?

Mr. McHenry goes home and performs

a reverse pike off of his balcony.

After filming a suicide note
admitting his guilt.

Mm. I hear rumors that the suicide note

and Mr. McHenry's untimely demise

were the work of the Avenging Angel.

Michael. From Amsterdam.

Bruges.

Her insistent effort to restore
wartime plunder to its rightful owners,

among her other avid pursuits,

is often nasty business.

Which I recall you agreed with.

What the hell happened to us?

Michael? As in the archangel?

The one that God sent
to fight the devil?

A job she does with
an almost heavenly zeal,

stealing from those who have stolen,

returning what was unjustly taken.

Sounds angelic to me.

According to Raymond,
she rights these wrongs

through murder, extortion,
random acts of violence.

When a Japanese court
acquitted executives

of responsibility
for the nuclear meltdown

in Fukushima, she committed
a ransomware attack,

extracting millions
for displaced victims.

Over the course of a decade,

she committed so many acts of terror

against a small Florida town
that local officials

eventually agreed to her demands

and gave back land to the descendants

of Black families who had been

run off their property in the 1920s.

And yesterday, she murders
the CEO of Genocyte

and makes it look likes
a guilt-ridden suicide.

Complete with a taped confession.

I leave my shares of Genocyte

to the person
they rightfully belong to...

Andrew Freeson.

Please forgive me, Andy.

Does Reddington have any idea
who her next target is?

He doesn't know her target,

whether she acts alone,
or is a hired gun.

If someone did hire her
to kill Adam McHenry,

chances are it's the man who thinks

McHenry made a fortune
after stealing his I.P.

Andrew Freeson sued
for his fair share and lost.

Now McHenry's dead
and Freeson owns the company.

I think that merits a sit-down.

Park, Dembe, bring him in.

It's all right. I'll go with her.

- Are you coming in today, sir?
- Should be.

I just have to check
on a friend of Charlene's.

Detective Heber, Homicide.

May I ask why you're stopped here?

Just wanted to see what
all the commotion was about.

It's a crime scene, sir.
Not a roadside attraction.

Right. I'm leaving.

You were right, this job does keep me

on the straight and narrow.

Telling me I'm right isn't the reason

you bumped Dembe off the assignment.

What am I missing?

My second drug test is later today,

and if I don't pass,

even if I come up inconclusive, I'm out.

And because I came up
inconclusive the last time,

well, this time,
they're coming into the stall with me.

That's cozy.

Look, the point is,
I need a clean sample,

and I'm not sure I have one to give.

But, uh, you do.

Yeah, and I'm not giving it to you.

I can't believe you're asking
me to help cheat the test.

Look, I'm not using. I'm just not sure

if I've been off long enough.

You know I need this job, and
this is the only way that I can keep it.

The answer's no.

If you don't do this, I'm off the
task force. I'm out of the Bureau.

If I do it and we're caught,
then we're both out.

You know what? Forget it.

It's not a risk I'm willing to take.

I said forget it, all right?
It's my problem.

I never should have
tried to make it yours.

Really. It's... It's all good.

So you and McHenry were partners?

Yes. We founded Genocyte
in my parents' garage.

He was my oldest friend.

Who you accused of making a fortune

by stealing your intellectual property.

You asked how well I knew him,
not what I thought of him.

What did you think of him?

That he was a liar and a cheat.

ADA Morehouse's office, please.

Bill. Harold.

A homicide report
should be filed later today

on a Doug Koster.

I need you to send me a copy.

My eyes only.

I owe you, pal.

What have I missed?

They're in with Freeson.

Do you think he was suicidal?

No. Do you think he was murdered?

I don't know what to think, or feel.

I'm just numb.

Well, you're also very rich now.

McHenry taped a confession.

He admitted to cheating you

and gave you his share of the company.

A confession? That's the first
I'm hearing of that.

Well, you spent years in court

trying to get what you say you deserved.

Now, you lost, but now...

McHenry winds up dead and
you get everything after all.

Are you suggesting I had
something to do with his death?

That I killed my best friend?

You mean the liar and the cheat?

Sure, that's who he was,

but he was also my oldest friend.

Where were you last night?

I had lost in court, so I was at home,

drinking, blogging my troubles.

I work in tech, okay?

Screaming into that void

is the only thing that helps.

Wait. Do you really think

I was at Adam's place killing him?

Were you?

This conversation's over.
I want my lawyer.

Okay, so, Freeson said
that thing about blogging,

so I looked up his online footprint,

and the guy's got profiles everywhere.

And then... And then I found this.

This is Thread-Net.

It's an online discussion platform

sort of like Reddit, and it looks like

Freeson found a deep
subcategory and vented

about the court case,
McHenry, his betrayal.

- A category about what?
- It is a prayer group.

It's people pouring out
their pain and problems

for divine intervention.

And the profile
that is hosting this thread?

AvengingAngel1317.

She's answering prayers.

That's how she's picking her crimes.

It's kind of perfect, actually.

Host an anonymous worldwide platform

and let the injustices roll in.

We have her profile. We run it down.

We find our angel.

Oh, uh, sir?

Is everything okay
with Charlene's friend?

At the moment, it's a mystery.

Uh, is there anything I can do?

No. Thanks.

I'm doing everything I can
to figure out what happened.

One click will get you in.

Return the gizmo on your way out.

- I can't thank you enough, Felix.
- Thank Rogelio.

He helped get my daughter
into Princeton this fall.

How wonderful for her! Go, Tigers!

Easy in, easy out.

And there's excellent pastrami
right around the corner.

Raymond?

How is it, bro?

Alexei! What a surprise!

I was stopping by to see
if your father was in town.

Ah, he's not, but come on in.

I'm having a little get-together.

Vodka's cold, and the girls are hot.

What do you have
that's room temperature?

Hey. Aram ran down that angel profile.

Log-ins from different routers
in a dozen countries.

Aram and Dembe are gonna
take the local half.

The out-of-towners are ours.

Top drawer.

Open it.

Freeson was betrayed by McHenry.

He was hurt by him,
but in the end, he loved him.

Thank you.

I hope it works, 'cause
I'm not as nice as Freeson.

Screw this up, and I won't sue you...

I'll kill you.

Got the clean sample you're looking for.

Look. You ready to work your magic?

All right. Name your time and place.

You read that online prayer group?

A bunch of it, yeah.

What were they posting on there?

Tragedy, grief, confession.

Our blacklister waded
through a lot of anguish

to find her needles in the haystack.

She takes advantage of people
searching for peace.

Hey! Any chance you're city inspectors?

No. We're FBI.

- Why do you ask?
- Because I've been calling.

Calling about what?

This house.
It's been empty for two years.

Last few months,
all I hear day and night,

noise like you wouldn't believe.

- Seen anyone today?
- No.

But someone's squatting.

In here.

She was here recently.

This is her staging area.

What the hell?

Oh, my God!

Aram, take a look at this.

What'd you find?

A link to the past.

Rosary beads.

Don't have a heart attack,
not until I give you one.

William Green.

Name ring any bells?

What are you doing?

Hmm? William Green.

Anything?

I've never heard of him.

I didn't think so.

But in a few hours, trust me,
he'll be unforgettable.

It's kind of beautiful.

The heart of an artist.

And the mind of a killer.
What did you track down?

Okay, so, I ran the hospital
bracelet that we found on-site.

No baby name, but the year was '83.

Sant'Agata Hospital, outside Rome.

The mother was a Michaela Bellucci.

No father's name listed.

Michaela to Michael.

Pretty close if this is our angel.

- Is this a hospital photo?
- No.

So, Dembe also found
a rosary at the scene,

and the cross was inscribed
with the name of a local convent

right near that hospital.

The convent was listed as Michaela's

place of residence
at the time of the birth.

Don't tell me our Avenging
Angel is a former nun.

It's deeper than that.

Turns out, Michaela was
a young, unwed mother,

practically a deadly sin
to some back then.

Her parents all but disowned her.

The convent took in hundreds

of similar cases like this at that time.

There have been
investigations into places like this

all over Europe.

She would have been kept like a prisoner

for the length of her pregnancy,

and when she finally gave birth,

she would have been forced
to give the baby up for adoption.

They took her baby.

And now our angel steals back

for those who have had
precious things stolen.

While carrying around
a hospital bracelet

and an old rosary.

She never let go of her past.

Michaela Bellucci barely has a past.

She disappears off all public records

shortly after the birth.

Do you have an update?

We have Michael's real name.
I'll send out a BOLO.

MPD is sending evidence
collected from that house you found.

When it arrives, I want it picked clean.

Sir.

From the DA's office
via Hoover. Your eyes only.

It's the information
on Charlene's friend.

Are you sure there's nothing I can do?

I'll handle it on my own for now.

If I need anything, I'll let you know.

_

_

_

_

Za zdorovie!

Cin-cin.

- Mmm.
- Oh.

So are you living here now, Alexei?

Or is this just
an impromptu get-together?

I'm just crashing here for a few weeks.

If I remember correctly,
you have quite a place.

W-Where is it?

Uh, Dalmatian Coast, Croatia, or...

Eh, I had to sell that property.

An unforeseen cash-flow problem.

- "Cash flow"?
- Yeah, it's nothing.

I was betting oil futures.
It was stupid.

I just need time to get back on my feet.

Shame to sell the villa, though.

There's nothing that retains its value

like a good piece of real estate...

Or a good piece of art.

What the hell do I know about art, huh?

Well, I mean, take
that painting, for example.

Your father's had it for years.

It's a perfect representation

of the style.

Clean lines, geometric use of the space.

What an investment.

That's someone's retirement
hanging on that wall.

How much we talking?

Oh, my goodness.

Look, I could have a row
of buyers lined up by lunch.

You could name a price.

Beautiful.

Eh. But you'd never.

It means too much to your father.

But he's... He's never here.
He can't love it that much.

These, uh... These buyers...

What could you get from them?

Oh, please. I can't put
a price on perfection.

Pretend like you can.

I mean, I'd be guessing,

but I think I know a collector

who'd offer $500,000
just to get your attention.

That would help with some cash flow.

It would.

But, you know, it's Alexei's call.

Think I could try for a million?

Is that painting really
worth $1 million?

This? Yeah.

Oleg stole this off the wall

of a Four Seasons in Maui.

But it makes for lovely camouflage.

Dembe and I were in Bruges a while back.

We heard rumors of an Avenging Angel,

someone dedicated to putting her thumb

on the scales of injustice.

She was on the hunt for this.

Van Gogh's The Painter
on the Road to Tarascon.

Stolen from its rightful owner
by the Nazis...

...and thought to have been incinerated

when the Allies bombed Magdeburg.

And how did you know Nikovich had it?

He showed it to me years ago.

Oleg's always very proud

of his newest shiny toy.

He hid it for obvious reasons
and lost interest.

But I never did.

And now you're gonna use it as bait

to catch the Avenging Angel.

That's my job, yes.

Yours is to contact the rightful owner.

Is he still alive?

His daughter is.

She's the lead singer
in a death-metal band.

How old is she?

Mm, 90-something.

Okay, no. No way.

The collector's
gonna be standing with you, watching.

Yeah, I'm aware, but...

The only way you're gonna
pee out clean urine

is if I put clean urine in you,

and the only way I can do that

is by running the sample
you brought from this catheter

through your penis into your bladder.

Is that even possible?

I spent a decade as a
team doctor for pro athletes.

Believe me,

when you're playing
for your next contract,

anything's possible.

Those guys want it so badly,

they're willing to do anything.

Are you?

We've gone through the
evidence files we got from MPD,

and these three men were in
multiple surveillance photos.

- That's Derek Huntley.
- Should I know who that is?

72nd-richest American.

One of the many sad facts I know

from my time hunting
for an angel investor.

And the others?

The second is Walter Conrad,

an administrator
at St. Damian's Hospital.

And the third is a local
steelworker named William Green.

No idea what they have in common.

Except that our archangel
was watching all three.

Bring them all in for questioning.

Hey. Sorry I was late. I had
personal issues to deal with.

A lot of that going around.

What do you want? Why am I here?

Mr. Conrad,

would you care to enlighten
our guest of honor?

No? Mr. Conrad is what
we call in Italian,

pulisci il culo, an asswipe.

Huntley is the person who gets wiped.

And you are the refuse,

the human garbage
they flush away every day.

I have no idea what you're
talking about.

Makes two of us.

Well, then, allow me
to shed some light on things.

I mean,
how many times do I have to tell you?

It wasn't about sex.

If it wasn't about the sex,
then why'd you have sex?

Why not invite him
to join your book club?

Because I hate my book club,

and the only reason
I joined that book club

is because you were never home.

Doug was just, you know, uh, company.

Coop.

Yo, Coop.

Lew. Thanks for coming.

What's with the cloak and dagger?

I need you to run
a ballistics test for me.

Okay.

And why can't you do that?

Because the test is
for my service weapon.

I woke up this morning,
and there was a round missing.

I think my weapon was recently fired.

Well, if you think a round's been fired

and it's your gun, shouldn't you know?

Ballistics, Lew. Can you do it?

How much trouble are you in?

I don't know. That's what
I'm trusting you to find out.

Sir, the three men from the photos,

Huntley, Green, and Conrad,
they are all missing.

Huntley was ambushed in traffic.

The security detail was
gunned down in broad daylight.

Conrad lived alone,

but we brought
in Green's wife to see what she knows.

Coordinate with MPD.

If they have any leads,
I want to know about it.

I'll be in my office.

You took something
that does not belong to you,

something that rightfully
belongs to Mr. Green.

You're crazy.
I've never met this man before.

Mm. But you've met Mr. Conrad.

He's here to explain
to Mr. Green what you stole

and how you used your power
and influence to steal it.

William went to the pharmacy.
It's around the corner.

When he didn't come back in an hour,

I went, and I was told
he never showed up.

Do you know who this woman is?

No. Who is she?

Why would she want to do
something to my husband?

I don't want to do something to you.

I want to give something to you.

Why was your husband
going to the pharmacy?

He had a pacemaker installed.

He was going to pick up his
heart meds, blood thinners.

He can't survive without them.

He has congestive heart failure.

I want to give you a heart,

specifically his heart.

Come on. You can't do that.

I don't want you to hurt him.

Why not? He didn't care
that he hurt you.

Mr. Conrad, if you will.
How did you do it?

My husband worked for a
steel company for 20 years.

When his heart got bad, they helped him

get on the national transplant list.

When an organ becomes available,

it's first offered to people
near the donor's hospital,

based on their placement on a wait list.

It took almost a year, but e-eventually,

William got to the top of the list.

And in this case, the hospital was St.
Damian's.

Is that your hospital?

Yes.

We were so excited.

The next heart was going to be his.

William Green lives in the
donation radius of St. Damian's.

Derek Huntley lives on
the other side of the state.

Can you explain that?

There are thousands of people

on donor lists all across the country.

I'm sorry that this man
did not get a heart,

but that is not my fault.

But it is his fault, wasn't it?

Derek offered to fully pay
for our new pediatric wing

if I could ensure the first
heart available was his.

So if your husband
was on the top of the list,

why didn't he receive a transplant?

He was at the top. He's not anymore.

- Why not?
- He failed a test.

A-A blood test.

They were pretty vague about it.

After that, William kept
getting bumped down the list.

So Mr. Huntley bribed his way
to the front of the line,

effectively sentencing
Mr. Green to death.

He doesn't have much time.

I just wanted the last couple months...

I want him to be at peace.

And now I don't understand
why this happened.

Why would someone
want to do this to him?

One more thing, Mrs. Green.

Have you ever posted on
any discussion groups online,

maybe a prayer group,

asking for your husband
to find a new heart?

How did you know that?

I didn't do anything to this man.

I did something for myself.

That's the way the world works.

I know.

That's why I'm so busy.

Shall we?

Wait. Wait. Wait.

You're guessing.

Yeah, but it's an educated guess.

Look at the facts. Two months ago,

William Green was number one

on the donor list for a new heart.

He's near a hospital. He's ready to go.

But suddenly, he gets a series
of disqualifying test results

that bump him down the list.

Around the same time,
a new pediatric wing

at St. Damian's is named
in honor of Derek Huntley.

It's time for your drug test.

If you need me, it can wait.

What we need is you to
be reinstated. Good luck.

Thank you.

You can't do this!

Why not? You behave
like you're heartless.

Now you will be.

You're right. It was a guess.

So I contacted the hospital.

A week after Green was disqualified,

Huntley got a new heart, while Mr. Green

got a pacemaker and six months to live.

Did Huntley get the heart
Green should have gotten?

All that matters
is that Michael thinks so.

Which means she'll want to give it
back to Green

by taking it from Huntley.

If that is what she's doing,

do you have any idea
where she's doing it?

- Not yet.
- If Mr. Green

has a pacemaker, though,
it may be Bluetooth compatible

for sending diagnostics
remotely to his doctors.

Find out as fast as you can.

You won't believe this.

The trail that went cold in Bruges?

It just got warm.

Who sent this?

A fence in Baltimore. Jericho.

After all these years.

He has a well-heeled client list.

We need to act quickly.

Whatever the asking price, double it.

I know what to do about the painting.
What about the owner?

Tell Mr. Jericho the price
comes on one condition.

I want a sit-down
with the owner to find out

what he knows about the
provenance of the painting.

For his sake, I hope it's not much.

You need to see my birthday suit?

I just had it tailored.

That won't be necessary.

Arms up, palms toward me.

Is that necessary?

Just following protocol.

First test is inconclusive,

we don't take any chances on number two.

No pressure, but I got a 4:15
with the Joint Chiefs.

Hello, Ada. Welcome.

Hope you had a comfortable trip.

Oh, yes. Heddie was a dear.

I hear you're on tour.

I am.

Dialysis permitting.

I have a show tonight,

but this nice lady says you
have a-a pleasant surprise for me.

At my age, most surprises
aren't, so here I am.

So, please, come sit.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. It's all right.

It's okay. I can manage.

I am old, not, uh...

They took it...

On a Thursday.

On Friday, they took the rest of us.

I only survived
because they heard me sing.

I am alive...

Because I sang for the people
who killed my family.

However did you find it?

In the case of history
repeating itself, I stole it.

- Hm!
- From the current owner's apartment.

I realize it's no recompense,

but maybe after all these years, it's...

Sentimental reparation.

Who are you?

Oh, that's...

That's a longer story.

Which I'll tell you right after this.

Excuse me. Jericho.

Yes, double the price is good.

Wanting to meet me is even better.

Twenty minutes.

All I need is an address.

Yes.

I'm terribly sorry, Ada,

but something unavoidable has come up.

So it's really mine to keep?

It was always yours.

It's just been in the wrong
hands for the past 81 years.

Ah.

This constant ringing.
I feel like Quasimodo.

Harold.

I was going to call you. Perfect timing.

It's not perfect for Derek Huntley.

Apparently, he cut in line
for a transplant

and got the heart that was
supposed to go to someone else.

Our angel is about to
balance the scales,

which means she'll murder Huntley,

and we don't know where.

Derek Huntley the billionaire?

I think you're missing the point.

Good talk, Harold.

Reddington, are you...

- Sir, the pacemaker has Bluetooth.
- Is it still active?

No, but the last known GPS ping
came from the warehouse district

- north of the city.
- It's a pretty big district.

And we were right about
the transplant surgery.

- How do you know?
- The same way I know

they're in the warehouse
on 14th and Roosevelt.

It is the only one
that had surgical equipment

delivered to it in the past month.

Relay that to the tac team.
Have them standing by.

Hi. Let's see what you got.

Aren't you a little spitfire.

I think you're forgetting something.

- What's that?
- Her hands.

Knife down. Back up.

This is none of your concern.

You're here about the painting.

I have the painting, yes,
but that's not why I'm here.

I'm here about this particular
game of hearts you're playing,

and it's your turn to discard.

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

If you knew what you were talking about,

you would not call this a game.

A psychopathology, then.

My guess would be that you had
something important taken from you.

More important than anything else.

So now you right wrongs

and avenge others who've
had something taken from them.

If you know that's what I'm doing,
why would you stop it?

Order. Harmony.

Balancing the scales.

So good is rewarded
and evil is punished.

Most of us want that.
I know I certainly do.

And if that's what you were doing here,
I wouldn't interrupt.

Do you know who this man is?

Do you know what
Huntley did to this man?

Yes, and it's abhorrent.

But I also know what else he's done.

He as much as murdered this man.

Perhaps.

But he also paid for a pediatric clinic

that's in the business of
saving children's lives.

He's contributed to research

that has eliminated certain
deadly childhood diseases

that have afflicted poor
children around the world.

That man is no saint.

No, he's not. He's a sinner.

But you think that's all he is.

In your binary world,
that's all you see,

so when you do your math,

the answer you come to
is that he deserves to die.

My math is different.

You and everyone else,

taking the side of the rich
over the poor.

That's not what I'm doing.

That is exactly what you are doing.

By stopping this,
William Green will die.

The decent,
honest steelworker will be sacrificed

for the rapacious hedge-fund manager.

Who said anything about letting him die?

- What's his blood type?
- O-negative.

He needs a heart.

And he's going to get one.
Just not Huntley's.

What's your blood type?

O-negative.

Boy, that's lucky.

And you're about the same size.

Not perfect, but this is how
my math works out.

There is an avenging angel
for all of us.

This will not keep you from yours.

I certainly hope not.

Get on the comms and tell Cooper.

Tell him what?

That Mr. Green is alive and
breathing with a new heart.

But for Michael, we were too late.

The blacklister is dead.

Her heart transplanted to William Green,

but I suspect you know all of this.

Sometimes even an avenging
angel needs an avenging angel.

You found the blacklister
on your own and killed her.

Why bring us the case at all?

If you're asking if I had
an angle to play, I didn't.

Until you told me about Derek Huntley.

How did that change the equation?

It gave me the opportunity to
make a powerful acquaintance.

In my experience, you can't have
too many of those in your debt.

What's the difference between
what you do and what Michael did?

She fancied herself
judge, jury and executioner.

How are you any different?

Oh, my goodness.
We couldn't be more different.

She judged people
based on their worst day,

by the most terrible sin they committed.

Shouldn't we be judged by that?

I don't think so.

If that were the standard,
we'd all be found wanting.

Then by what standard
should we be judged,

if not by the worst day of our life?

By every other day.

We all have the devil in us, Harold,

but the best of us have angels, too.

Sir. From a Special Agent Sloan.

Thank you.

Uh, sir.

You know, whatever you need,
uh, you know I'm here for you.

You made it.

Are you kidding? I love death metal.

I'm a total Cadaver Rising groupie.

I must say, I'm something of a virgin.

Excited but a bit apprehensive.

I do it to reach young people
so they will never forget.

My voice kept me alive. Now I use it

to remind the world
that good triumphs over evil.

What can I say?

Apres moi le deluge.

Skies alive with fire.

There was a holocaust!

I survived.

So many did not.

It was, uh, horrifying.

Right now all I care about
is that you're here

and you're going to be fine.

So?

Alina.

Did I pass?

No. No, you didn't.

What are you talking about?

The drug test came back negative.

I've been reinstated, but, um...

But what?

The hormonal levels in my readings,

they were irregular.

That sometimes happens
when someone has abnormal

tissues or tumors.

The results indicate that...

You may have cancer.

Yeah, but since they actually
tested you and not me...

I'm the one who's sick.

_

_

Hey.

Honey, it's late.
What time you coming home?

Soon. I'll be home soon.

I'm sorry about this morning.

Doug Koster's a name
from the past. Nothing more.

I was just caught off guard
about what happened.

You don't owe me an apology.

It was a shock. For both of us.

Did you hear anything?
I mean, about the case?

Do you have any idea what happened?

They don't, but I do.