Original subtitles

Previously, on Billions...

New York, we did it!

Prince didn't pull this off all by his lonesome.

So we separate Prince from his power base.

Philip gets first pick. He's outperformed everyone lately.

I already started working on Hypersonic.

I'm in the process of building a relationship with the CEO.

There are major problems

with their tech and aviation physiology.

There's no way to trade out without taking a massive loss.

What do you think they're agreeing to right now?

Oh, fuck.

There is an item that I have

jammed into a certain bill

that will also be passing,

closing the carried interest loophole.

So, what do we need to do to get the bullet out of the gun?

Had we known, we never would have been party

to such malfeasance.

These men and women were unknowingly brought in

to an attempt to commit bribery at a very high level.

- You gotta be kidding me, Mike. - It's BS, Andy.

This news is our boarding pass out of our fucked situation.

I figured you'd need help

unloading the shares at the open.

Yes, another set of hands would be good.

We can work through this.

I'm afraid the New York Games are tainted now.

The ICS has come to the conclusion

that the 2028 Games

can no longer be held in New York City.

An icy wind burns and scars

Rushes in Like a fallen star

Through the narrow space Between these bars

Looking down On Prison Grove

Dug in, hunkered down

Hours race without a sound

Gonna carry me To where I'm bound

Looking down On Prison Grove

Two kinds of men.

Those who, in defeat, pretend they never cared...

and those who come alone

to pack up their gear and soak in the loss.

I, like you, am a soaker.

I'm no soaker. I'm a rebuilder.

Pat Riley approach.

Ah. The godfather.

Another great sage intimate with the subject of defeat.

And victory.

Mostly victory.

"A champion needs a motivation above and beyond winning."

Wiser words, huh?

State your purpose.

Well, in the spirit of all this inspirational talk,

I wonder if you'd be motivated to unload this office building

and some of the other property you bought for the Olympics

to the state land bank.

When I was bootstrapping

my first startup in the Bay Area,

I was motivated to go down to Geraldine's Seafood Market early

so I could buy the freshest catch before anyone else.

Now, I just buy the fishing boats.

Well, by cutting out the middleman,

that makes you the middleman, no?

No, Chuck, it makes me rich,

with no need to unload anything at any time

for anyone's reasons other than my own.

It makes sense to free up acres of land you no longer need.

Sell it back to the land bank. I'll offer you a fair price.

Market rate.

Yeah, I'm not in the business of buying high and selling low.

And if I was, I don't think you'd be the fella

I'd want on the other side of that deal.

You have to know that.

So, what's your true reason for being here?

You trying to prompt me

into making some mistake out of anger?

I think you've mistaken me for someone looking for a fight.

That's in the past. I'm here to find a way forward,

leave you with dignity in defeat.

Hallmark of a guy trying to give the other guy dignity

is hitting the word "defeat"

harder than Earnie Shavers hit the heavy bag.

I may not be quite as evolved

as I'd wish...yet.

I'm working on it.

Aren't we all.

What, you're really here to end this?

Armistice? Ceasefire? What are you offering?

I guess I need to see if I believe you are standing down.

Do I look like a man readying for battle right now?

No.

So like that fabled, frosty, starlit December night in 1914,

when a melody drifted over the darkness of no man's land,

British and German troops called a truce

to sing holiday carols,

lighting trees in the trenches rather than cannons,

a symbol of an Earth where there could indeed be peace.

That particular truce didn't last very long.

No, it didn't.

Walter Sinclair Smith stopped a Mauser round,

- and it was back to business. - As am I.

The past is in my rear-view.

I wanted the Olympics for NYC. We didn't get it.

But there's no reason to ready the nukes.

I thrive in peacetime.

How about you?

Oh, it's what I live for.

But, of course,

the best way to peace is through overwhelming force.

I was up all night with it. If he could have let it go,

then maybe I'd have been able to move on.

But, no, Chuck lives for just this kind of conflict.

He had to remind me that he took from me.

- Now it's time to take back. - Sure, boss.

Let's go full Rooster Cogburn on his ass.

That makes me Mattie Ross. Out for blood.

Didn't realize you took this setback so personally.

I was brought in to land the Olympics safely,

not to have them blow up like an Irish car bomb.

Well, I could still use your legal expertise.

Chuck is an elected official,

which by its very nature makes him vulnerable.

Sure, what are we gonna do?

Line up and vote him out in two years?

There's a much smaller vote that can take place, and sooner.

The rare, quick arrivederci of New York politics.

Chuck can be removed as AG.

He's standing over a trapdoor as we speak.

How do we pull the lever?

Get the governor on board, for starters.

Then it's a two-thirds majority of the state Senate.

But you're up against Chuck's entrenched interests

in every corner of the state,

from Taughannock Falls to Lake Placid.

I know how to make new friends.

It's easier when the old ones

aren't poisoning the well before you drink from it.

I agree. If Chuck even catches wind of you

trying to trade favors in his ring,

you better have muleta and sword ready.

He'll come charging right at you.

Common misconception

that bulls become angry when they see red.

No, they respond to the movement of the cape, not the color,

which is red to mask the blood.

So we need to wave something to get his attention.

I know what we need to do.

Welcome to The Bates. How may I assist you?

I'm here to meet a Mr. Legere.

Sure, one moment.

I'm sorry, he hasn't arrived yet.

Okay, thanks.

I'm sorry, ma'am,

are you a member?

No, like I said,

I'm meeting Stuart Legere, who is.

You'll have to wait outside.

Excuse me?

The executive lounge is for members only.

You mean the lobby? I can't sit in the lobby?

All guests must be accompanied by members while on premises.

I'm sure it's a great stock,

and I'd go all in on it if I worked

at fucking JT Marlin,

but I have to produce results.

Oh, hold it for me, please!

I'm sorry, lady, that's not how it works.

You got your key?

You've got to have a key.

I just wanted to take my baby to the park, pendejo.

I'll ram it up their keister...

Hey.

I think I need to arrest someone for being an asshole.

Can we do that?

Well, I used to try more than I do now,

but, yeah, sure.

Guy right there, Lulu Lehman Brothers,

just closed the gate on a woman pushing a stroller

because she didn't have a key.

Well, that beautiful, verdant park

doubles as an asshole magnet.

Whole block is.

Only reason I'm waiting here is because the Bates Club

just booted me out.

- Didn't you give the name? - Yeah.

Right before they showed me the service entrance.

I feel like I'm in They Live and I'm about to go

Rowdy Roddy Piper on someone's ass.

Fucking now! Like the Wolf says,

money is the oxygen of capitalism.

You know, we can't actually arrest folks

for being schmucks,

but we can stop structural schmuckiness.

We have a mandate to do so.

And that park is the perfect target,

because it's symbolic of so much more.

Of all the different kinds of entry denied to people

- who aren't at the top. - That's right.

Back in the late '60s, you know,

a couple of teenagers crashed their motorcycles

into the gates, took a few turns around the old green.

Tore it up quite a bit before taking off.

And you may think that there was an outcry.

- No? - No, indeed.

It was on the heels of Woodstock.

Everybody just thought they were doing it for peace and love.

- Different times. - Maybe so.

But that gate.

I'm thinking it can be turned into our key.

- To what? - Unlock the city.

Ah, Stuart Legere.

So I looked into what you asked.

I see we're past the formalities.

You've got me under your thumb. Doesn't buy you any smiles.

You want to know where Prince is at and what he's going to do?

Well, he's wounded. Badly.

And I know more.

We can discuss it inside. I have the best table waiting.

No, let's go somewhere open to more than the landed gentry,

shall we?

You and your group pivoted like a top Texas cutting horse

on the Hypersonic trade.

We like to stay nimble.

And I see you've also taken

a substantial short position on it.

I was taught a good investor can change their mind in an instant,

but a great one needs to be able to do a full 180.

Losing the sponsorship of the Games

- can't have hurt them that bad. - We'll see.

The other part of that good investor-great investor thing

is that they 180 on new information.

So, what was it?

Something one of my gang, Rian, figured about their tech.

A totally legal move on our part.

- Still, I should probably-- - Say less.

As the kids would put it, yes.

- It's time. - Should we send her in?

Appreciate the update. Excellent work.

- Please, come in. - Thank you.

This is Michael Prince.

- Good to see you. - Good to see you.

- Let's take a couple shots. - Of course.

Nice. I got you.

- Hey, peach! - What?

All right, everyone, pencils down.

Place your open material faceup on the table in front of you.

Holy shit, look who's back.

- What's up, Mafee? - My brothers.

Actually, we just stopped by to steal some office supplies.

How's new-co?

Strikes and gutters, you know.

- All right, dude. - Dollar Bill. Mafee.

- What's the rumpus? - Meetings in the building.

Wanted to come by and see the reno-vaysh.

So, who's the, uh, slightly younger,

less handsome, suave version of me?

This is Philip Charyn.

New PM.

Dollar Bill and Mafee.

Well, it's a pleasure. Your reps precede.

Philip's been instrumental in helping

to steer this ship in a new direction.

Thanks, Taylor.

And what direction is that?

Towards a sandbar in the Suez Canal?

Whoops. Sorry about the Olympics, guys.

There's always next decade.

What'd your nana tell you about joining in with the bullies?

Don't make me call her and tell on you

before your weekly FaceTime.

I got carried away.

I am sorry you lost the Games and all that business,

if it mattered to you.

I know, Mafee. And Nana would be proud.

You two sticking around for a while?

No, we got to get back soon.

Just wanted to pop in and say hi.

Rap your knuckles against our balls.

Still tungsten, so tap lightly for your sake.

"Reno-vaysh"? Really? You're abbreviating everything now?

I'd offer you something to drink,

but you won't be staying long.

You want to take a swing at me

because I didn't indulge

your childhood train conductor fantasy?

Go ahead.

I'll even take off my hat, Sergeant Hulka-style.

Yeah, well, the difference is,

you'd be the one who'd end up gutted,

bent over, and sucking wind.

I'll take the punch to the belly instead of this.

Are you hacking my phone now, Governor?

No, sir. Got it from a comms guy I know.

Went from his Slack channel to my aide's phone to mine.

You see, Mr. Prince, news travels fast,

especially when it's about my potential opponent,

Celina Russell.

Yeah, well,

I'm shopping for a new governor.

Remember, you break it, you buy it.

Make sure you like what you have,

and that you're not just grabbing the first

- shiny object you see. - Come on.

Brilliant former legal aide- turned-cable news pundit

with hometown roots in Rochester?

And with that winning, high-wattage smile.

What's not to love?

And soon, she won't be able to close

her campaign finance war chest, 'cause I'll have overstuffed it.

She'll primary you,

We'll outspend and outspin you in every county.

Man, I so want to go chest-to-chest with you on this,

you know, Rocky Graziano-style,

but I think you'd see right through my hard-eyed pose.

We both know I barely won my last election,

and that's when my opponent was in the wrong party.

The hell am I gonna do against Miss America?

Simple, you can agree to what I want.

Which is?

Rhoades kicked to the curb.

Specifically, I need you to write a letter

to the New York Senate requesting a special session

to vote on his removal.

On what grounds?

See? You're already asking the right questions.

Maybe there's hope for you after all.

- I'll send you the details. - No, no, no.

I got no reason to spend my political capital

on your Randall Flagg.

He's yours, too.

You work in an abattoir long enough,

you become nose-deaf to the blood and guts.

Doesn't mean that the agent of death isn't there.

You've been wading through it so long,

you don't realize he is.

Listen, I'm not gonna sign anything

unless you can guarantee me

you got two-thirds of the Senate with you,

willing to vote him out.

We need Chuck dead,

not wounded and angry.

I'll get you your two-thirds.

Just have your pen ready.

"Unlock the city"?

That's the battle cry? Huh!

Well, considered "There is no land for us

beyond the Volga," but it was taken.

Well, at least the Russians had

a literal snowball's chance of winning.

- We don't. - Hold on, Van de Veld Park

has a tax exemption.

It's regulated like a nonprofit.

State law prohibits discrimination in public spaces.

And a park is, by its very function,

a public accommodation, and must be non-discriminatory.

Unless it's a private park, like Van de Veld.

The land belongs to the adjacent condo owners

and has since the McClendon Trust was formed in 1912.

Maybe billionaires have the right to close off

and restrict acres of nature in the middle of an urban center.

The question we're posing is: should they?

Everyone else has to pay taxes for the property they own.

Why should the top 1% have a loophole

that exempts them from the same?

Why should Busby Berkeley be a household name,

but Gower Champion is largely unknown?

There are injustices in the world,

and one of those is, the rich have loopholes.

Until now.

Either pay up or unlock the gates.

It won't hold up in court.

So there must be a win in just picking the fight.

We don't need a courtroom to let the billionaires

start turning their guns on each other.

Okay, then let me hit Bass Pro Shops

for a rod and reel to use on this fishing expedition.

Yep, we just need the right bait to get a keymaster to let us in.

I'm telling you, Gold Bond Medicated, you slap it

right up there between your crack and your sack,

and it's like disco dust for your taint.

- Hold on. - State police.

Fuck-- What the-- Hey! Hey!

- Hey! - Steven Birch,

a jackal at large in the city.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered

that you sit on the board of trustees

for the very private park

into which I am conducting an investigation.

- Into what? - Your tax-exempt status.

I'm curious, how many people have one of those coveted keys?

Any parkside resident in one of 44 surrounding buildings.

So 481 keys, give or take.

- But that list is private. - Not for long.

You grab me off the street

because you want to push your little girl on our swings?

Or are you harassing me just for the fun of it?

No, I do it to get revenge for people like a young mother

who got locked out because she happened to be brown

and some Wall Street raider-type

wanted to finish his phone call.

Sounds like a regrettable mistake.

Well... preventable one, certainly.

What's going to be regrettable

are the news stories and the cause of action I bring

on behalf of the people against the chairman

of the conservancy-- you--

and likely an inquiry into

and audit of your businesses to go along with it.

Boy, you look like that guy in the old photo

trying to catch a cannonball with his belly.

Just grimacing and pretending to smile through the pain.

That look you're seeing is me reacting

to the smell of bullshit wafting through your car.

No, no.

You know what? No.

I'm going to stay above it.

What will it take to get you to leave me alone, Mr. Rhoades?

A list of your members.

Because I intend to serve every keyholder, bring suit,

and let a judge's gavel be my battering ram

on those fucking gates.

I have some preternatural skills, you know?

Think fast. Talk fast. Run fast. These things come in handy.

Except when...

Except when the fast talking outpaces the fast thinking.

Such as when you suggested we oust Chuck

using Albany Trilogy methods.

I mean, it was Chuck who first turned me on to those books.

That's not why you're begging out now, though.

It surely is not, but, uh, I...

I can't be seen having a hand in this.

Sure you can.

Hard-nosed political operative is a useful descriptor

for someone who wants the trajectory you do.

It can be played as disloyal to him that made me.

Also to the public as, I lined up with a billionaire against--

This billionaire is worth more than the public to you

in terms of winning the seat you covet.

Financing primaries and general elections and so on.

Getting his friends to throw in too.

Learned not to trust promises like that.

Yet my whole reputation is based on keeping promises like that.

How about this:

You give me the info I need to do it,

watch me as I do it, guide my hand,

and I alone will know your involvement.

Sixty-three seats in the state Senate.

No term limits.

Deeply entrenched lifers not easily swayed

by opportunities waiting for them in the private sector,

and some who actually care about what's good for their districts.

Give each one a cookie.

And the rest?

Care about what's good for them.

Their political futures.

So to reach two-thirds--

You need 42 votes.

Can you guide me there?

You know I can.

He's coming after all the Van de Veld Park keyholders,

which means you and our neighbors.

On what grounds?

I mean, let Rhoades try to step foot on private property

without a warrant.

Does he have a complaint?

Sounds like NYAG

is on some plebeian jihad.

I'm on your side, and that sounded offensive.

What they're really after

is dissolving our board of directors,

strip us of our tax-exempt status.

- Fuck! - I'd like to see him try.

Better men have been run out on a rail for less.

Trust me, I know.

And I'll show him what he can do with his injunction.

That's just it.

He wants us to throw money at the problem, prove a point.

Make us put ourselves on display.

Well, I'm not giving up my condo.

I just reestablished residency with my new girlfriend.

She loves the park.

What else is there?

What the fuck, Birch? What is this, a setup?

I'm not here to fight you, Lazarra,

despite how you all sold me out.

I'm here to fight alongside you.

I don't ask much of the city.

But I do think I've earned the right to some privacy.

As we all have.

Elitism isn't your thing, Mike.

It's not elitism, it's self-preservation.

More territory Chuck Rhoades has invaded.

That man is responsible for us

going from being treated like royalty

when we walked into restaurants

to having to use OpenTable like everyone else.

You think he's going to stop at the park?

The Knickerbocker, the Metropolitan, the Core Club.

All storied institutions we're members of,

reserved for us to gather in peace.

He'll go after them next.

See? Jihad. That's what I said.

At what point will we have to leave New York City altogether

just to avoid a wealth tax?

Because make no mistake, that's where this is going.

And you've come down from the heavens to save us?

Pretty much.

You fell under his spell, Birch.

He used you to get us all here.

We needed a lifeboat. He was the only one offering.

Yeah, why would you offer to help us

after the Olympics deal going south?

I'm willing to look past your betrayal.

And I'll take care of Chuck Rhoades,

so you can keep your hands clean.

But if you screw me again in even the slightest way,

I'll maim every single one of you like Johnny Rambo in Blood.

You're not throwing in with us

because you love this place or us.

And what is the real agenda?

What price are you looking to exact?

A price has to be paid, sure.

But it'll be to your benefit in the long run.

If I do this for you,

you'll have to put up your money.

You'll each invest a quarter bil at MPC.

Believe me, Senator, I take no pleasure

in going after these Van de Veld Park trustees.

They're fine citizens, one and all.

Or maybe not so fine.

But someone needs to advocate for the people

who actually pay taxes, and on this one, that's me.

Have a good day, Senator.

Third state senator to pressure me on this thing.

That jibes with what I know.

The cabal is reunited.

And they're strategizing with Prince now

on how to fight this effort.

And true to form, he stuck them each for investable funds.

And true to form, we're going to mow them down.

I have State Senator Tharp on two

and Assembly member Ma still holding on line one.

The wolves are out.

The harder they push, the more I know we're onto something.

Hold all such calls, please.

You can only ignore them for so long.

Just until we got them in front of a judge.

Hey, Taylor.

How's it going?

Yeah, always good to see friends and colleagues

on the old ride to the office.

Better than a funeral cortege, you know?

How was lunch?

- Nothing special. - It was great.

Fine. Just fine. Nothing special, as he said.

You're going to lose Ben and Tuk.

- They told you this? - Not in so many words, no.

But, yes, by their affect,

which was more nervous than usual.

I saw them coming back from lunch sucking on Blue Bottle.

- That's the shit Mafee drinks. - Meaning?

Either they suddenly grew a taste for artisanal iced coffee

and went out of their way to get it,

or they took an interview at High Plains.

They're not under contract, are they?

Sounds like an HR thing. Maybe you take it up with Wendy.

She's out. She took some personal leave

to refocus and reboot, but you're missing the point.

Do you really think they'd leave Michael Prince

and Starfleet Command for a baby bro fund?

If they plan to leave together,

then maybe they don't really want to leave.

But it's friends going to work with friends.

Different, yet familiar. They're feeling nostalgic.

You have a chance to walk this back.

Unless it's their time to move on.

Look, it can be difficult

leaving something you love, even when you know you should.

- That sounds personal. - It is.

I had a chance to study under Daphne Koller.

- MacArthur Fellow? - Yeah, among other awards.

Her work in the AI Lab at Stanford is mind-bending,

which is why I stayed in engineering a year longer

than I should have.

I had a similar internal conflict with Bobby Axelrod.

He built me up and broke me down.

I tried to make an exit and ended up

right back where I started.

And now that he's gone,

do you think you've stayed longer than you should have?

I did at first,

but I've come to realize I'm right where I need to be

to get where I need to get,

which is ten figures in personal assets.

That's the grisbi, huh?

What do you plan on doing with it?

Like the assets, that's personal.

Look, this is all to say,

perhaps Ben and Tuk are right where they need to be too.

And if they're not? If their career path is to go elsewhere,

I won't stand in the way.

Uplifting sentiment,

but what I've been trying to tell you is,

their departure will reflect badly on you.

It isn't just about your book anymore.

Losing personnel, their ideas, their value--

that's going to be on you.

Ah. The optics.

Plus, they are fucking smart, good at their jobs,

and not assholes.

If you can keep 'em, keep 'em.

And if I can't?

We should set up an exit interview.

Try to get something in trade.

Hmm. Yeah. I think...

So, how we looking?

We got the Hudson Valley. That gives you seven.

Good in Finger Lakes too.

Syracuse, Ithaca, Rochester, they love you.

Nothing a sizable college endowment can't buy.

That gives you another eight votes.

You like to lead with the good news.

I've learned something about you, Scooter.

But let me share the bad:

There's a senator from Oneonta. He's a holdout.

- Who's he? - Senator Clay Tharp. Republican.

Been in the seat since Kate Sacker's first birthday.

Ooh, that's a long time.

Not that long.

He's screening our calls.

Our magic number is 42.

Where does Tharp fit in?

With Tharp, you get four more in the region.

He'll get me over the line?

That settles it, then.

We're going to Albany.

Mohawk tribe is from your area.

The Keepers of the Eastern Door of the Iroquois Confederation.

Is that how you fancy yourself?

Am I sitting with the big chief? The guardian of the region?

On the contrary, I'm just an elected official

executing the duties of his post as he sees fit.

And does that includes holding the line for Chuck Rhoades,

regardless how misguided or even corrupt he is?

Let me stop you there.

You want to know why I supported the Rhoades ticket?

I want to know the makeup of dark matter.

I'll settle for that.

He was there for me at my lowest.

Visited us when my wife took ill.

And at her funeral, he shook my hand,

he looked me in the eye, and he said...

"Under better circumstances."

Simple words.

Not nearly enough for a man who'd just lost his wife,

but what would be enough?

And I saw the beauty and the comfort in those words.

I'd live on. I'd return to the statehouse.

At least I'd have that. My life's work.

And when I did return,

Chuck would be there,

his friendship awaiting me.

It was the promise of a better future.

And I understood that that was the most

that one politician can give to another.

So, I'm sorry, I can't go against him.

I could be a good friend to you too, Senator Tharp,

if you let me.

What part of "I can't help you" was unclear?

Jesus. Again?

It's time we stop sounding surprised.

Sacker is the walking embodiment of Sky Masterson's cider story.

That's one I don't know.

If you walk into a bar and some fella offers to bet you

that that ace of spades is gonna jump out of a deck of cards

and squirt cider in your ear, you better believe

you're gonna end up with an ear full of cider.

And this particular earful's going to cost him 1,800,

and you 32.

My brain trust is fleecing the rest of my brain trust.

- Happens. - What's the verdict?

Tharp's not moving. What have you got?

Economic fallout in Oneonta, his district,

in the wake of the pandemic.

- Spit it. - Downtown's an aging shithole.

Governor marked millions to put some perfume on that pig.

- And if we make that go bye-bye? - Old white people hate

when they can't preserve their history.

I suppose it's not so simple as just asking Sweeney to renege?

We need to identify some equally worthy projects

the funds can be reallocated to.

- I'll find it. - And we need to do so

without exposing you, Mr. Prince,

to criminal liability.

At your service.

Can we pull this off in time?

If we go to trial, we likely lose,

so we need to negotiate a settlement

we can paint as a win.

Something they'll take but not quite choke on.

Public access times, a sunset provision

that phases out the private access.

And you have a plan to pull that off?

Absolutely.

We just convince the judge and our opponents

that it's not what we want.

You want to open up the membership

to every private club and park in the region

and let anarchy reign?

You're Sid Vicious now.

Well, as he said, "I'm not vicious, really.

I consider myself to be kindhearted.

I love me mum."

Look, it's laid out clearly

- in section 40- - A that all persons shall be entitled

to the full and equal accommodations--

I'm aware of the provisions, Mr. Rhoades.

I don't need you to recite them.

But what I don't see here is any indication

that there's widespread violation of them.

These clubs all have open-door policies in place now.

"Open" is subject to interpretation,

as our investigation shows.

Well, let's see.

- An African- - American man was yelled at by a security guard.

A woman overheard two men crack a sexist joke,

and their membership wasn't revoked.

One club only has two Jewish members.

Two?

So they can play golf and tennis with each other.

- Hmm. - Yeah, it's a thing.

None of this looks good,

but grounds for a lawsuit?

Individually, these are complaints

that get swept under the rug.

But taken together,

they form a fact pattern about who has access

and, more importantly, who doesn't.

These clubs' mere existence is a violation of state law.

You're entitled to your opinion and your frivolous lawsuits,

as are the defendants who filed a countersuit

to block NYAG's efforts.

We expected as much,

and we are eager to argue the points in front of a jury.

I'm sure you'd love the chance.

But I'm granting a permissive joinder of parties,

combining these lawsuits into one.

- Hold on a sec-- - Yep.

I'm rolling all your scraps together

into one nice chop meat surprise,

and I want a settlement between parties.

A settlement doesn't benefit anyone.

- Hey, Chuck.

So you're putting me in a Ken Patera full nelson?

No, it's Chuck Rhoades putting you

in this particular chicken wing.

He's threatening to pop that shoulder out of joint,

and private enterprise out this state along with it.

Well, your part of the state, anyway.

You see, his war against business

makes it far more advantageous

for Governor Sweeney to partner with hedge fund owners like me

than with small businesses and municipalities like yours.

Bottom-line it for me, city boy.

You can look like a hero when we announce

that the Prince Companies will partner with Oneonta

on the downtown redevelopment project.

Or embrace your political death if your stubborn,

if admirable, loyalty won't quiet down.

Your choice.

It would be an easy choice...

under better circumstances.

Shit.

I got your two-thirds.

It's go time.

Pursuant to this settlement,

NYAG agrees to drop these lawsuits

in exchange for restrictions being lifted

and gates unlocked at various city parks

for at least four hours a day.

The timeline to institute this change

is within seven years.

I'll let you folks work out the fine print

before I sign off on it.

No one got what he wanted.

Wheels of justice are grinding away.

What's wrong?

The governor has served the Senate

with a letter of charges against you.

It's a motion to remove you from office.

- On what grounds? - Abuse of power.

An enemy got ahold of Sweeney and is steering this against me.

Chuck, at this point, it doesn't matter.

The ball's with the Senate now.

No, it does matter, Ira,

'cause if someone got to Sweeney,

it's possible they got to the Senate as well.

Can they make this move without giving you an opportunity

- to defend yourself? - Let's focus on your legal wins.

As your attorney, I can represent you,

but I need help devising a strategy.

For when?

They've called a special session for tonight.

They can't do that.

Chuck, I read the rules. They can.

Welcome, guys.

We were happy to get your call

to talk about swapping some assets.

Is it gonna be a "you show us yours, we show you ours"

kind of thing, or...?

Yeah, were you thinking we'd start

with some of the stuff you built up

in anticipation of the Olympics, or...?

Oh.

We'll just...

No, you're in the right meeting. Join us. Sit.

So these are the assets

you're really interested in.

- That's right. - Fuck.

I feel like Rogen in Neighbors. Delta Psi has the upper hand.

This is a white paper I started on High Plains

and the $937 million of assets you have under management.

That's oddly fucking specific.

It contains a comprehensive breakdown of your leverage,

and creditors, and your allocations.

Risk parity: 4%. Long-short equity: 28%.

Credit arbitrage: 6%.

Event-driven and risk arbitrage: 24%.

CTAs-- You know, I could go on, but it's all there in the paper,

as are the individual names you're in.

We've been friends, and I've gone to bat for you

and bailed you out in the past, but this is the present.

I know where your money's at, I know what you want,

and I know what you're going after.

I know where you're weak.

This includes specifics,

as you can see on the last page,

as well as the names of your investors.

Those are the names I will target

if you continue sniffing around our personnel,

and especially if they decide to go over to you.

Look, um, no decisions have been made yet.

That's good, because if that should come to pass,

I will raid, bleed and feed on High Plains' business.

I will sacrifice my own returns to hurt yours, to kill yours.

Hey, that kind of interference is illegal.

- Yeah, totally illegal. - Say "illegal."

Go ahead and say "illegal" again, I dare you.

I double dare you, motherfucker.

Go on and say "illegal" one more goddamn time,

because you know who I trained under.

You saw me train under him.

You saw him teach me, and you saw me learn.

Now ask yourself if I give a shit about illegal,

and whether I'll be utterly successful blowing up your firm

and sending you back to a trading desk

as fucking order clerks.

And Mafee, before you say this violates our friendship,

just know this:

Friends don't steal from friends.

Be my friend?

I get it.

You reach an inflection point in your career

where either you yearn for something different,

or, in this case, you start to wonder.

You fantasize about turning back the clock.

Dollar Bill and Mafee want to recreate the old Axe Cap

at High Plains,

and maybe you want to be a part of that.

To the time of company trips to Miami,

the suites at Yankee Stadium, the poker tournaments,

everyone pitching in to crush a sector.

But ask yourself, how can they really do that

without Bobby Axelrod?

Or Bonnie. Or Wags. Or Victor. Or me.

Our collective memory is Axe Capital.

The rest is colored bubbles.

It's your call.

But it'd be a real shame to lose the glue of our operations

here on the floor at Michael Prince Capital.

You think I'm the glue?

And not that Elmer's preschool shit, either.

More like "We need a plastic surgeon

to remove it from your hair" Gorilla Glue.

It'd also be a shame

to lose our comer, as in,

one making rapid progress and showing promise.

You know, I have been starting to feel it lately.

Like Ohtani in year two in the majors.

Just hitting my stride.

I think what you guys really want is to negotiate

for better terms.

Maybe you want to ask for Tuk's book back.

Well, we can get that sorted. He's back in.

Really? Thanks!

I mean, okay, sure.

Maybe you want more guidance and less oversight.

Consider it asked and answered.

But if you leave, well, as for what happens then,

I think we covered that part.

You know what?

Perhaps we misjudged our timing.

Let's scrap the offer on the table

if Taylor will, in the name of friendship,

consider that a peace offering.

I accept. But the next time you're thinking

about talking to our people, do it through the front door.

And maybe next time give your interviewees boutique coffee

in unmarked cups.

You and your fucking Blue Bottle.

- We're done with it. - I like what I like.

So did KGB, but he still threw the Oreos

against the fucking wall when they sold him out.

Holy shit.

That was a master class of business hardball.

I can't let anyone take from me. Ever.

I see that now.

Unless it's something toxic you want to stick them with.

'Cause it shows them that you're weak and vulnerable,

and next time they'll come for what matters most.

I know you might one day cut me with the knife I'm giving you,

but I'd rather that than watch a born fighter

let himself get stabbed.

Oh, and by the way, we're even.

I was hoping to keep that chit for a while, but yeah, we are.

You know what?

I think someone is nostalgic for the way it was here,

hoping to hang on to as many threads as they can

of the old days, and it wasn't Tuk or Ben.

- Chuck... - Hmm?

Senator.

Why didn't you return my calls?

I reached out right after I heard from Michael Prince.

Wait, you called about Prince?

Does it matter?

No, of course not.

I bet he was trying to turn you against me.

But surely I can rely on you, Clay, right?

Under better circumstances.

What the hell was that?

I'd say it's the moment we learned

our indignation was used against us.

We should have seen this coming.

Speeding right in our direction.

Oh, shit, Chuck,

who suggested The Bates Club as the meeting spot?

That'd be Legere. Said he was a member.

Even though he's from out of town,

and it's right across the street

from Van de Veld Park.

That manipulative motherfucker.

Chuck. Ira.

And Miss Mahar.

I've already seen how warranted your rep is.

Classic play at The Bates Club.

You here to run another bullshit game on us?

It's a chance to see Maximus at the Colosseum.

How could I miss it?

He did pretty well, if memory serves.

This may not turn out the way you hope.

Instead, it's likely you've wasted much time,

money and resources orchestrating this.

Did I? Well, there's a price to every battle.

A gladiator's willingness to pay is what defines him.

We thank you for your service.

Your effective performance.

With heartstrings well pulled.

I think we're good paying you by check.

For you, a lovely window seat back to Indianapolis.

Prince Capital thanks you for your assistance.

The Senate will come to order.

We are in a special session,

closed to the public

by the request of Governor Robert Sweeney.

Governor, you have the floor.

Thank you, Madam President.

I would like to begin this evening by entering into record

a letter that I issued to both this body

and to the accused.

It's about a matter of grave importance

that deserves your careful and immediate deliberation.

Remember, no matter what he says,

we can rebut it with your record.

What he calls corrupt, we rebut with "fair dealmaking."

You're someone who strikes a balance

between the letter of the law and your evolving understanding

of a rapidly changing world.

You sound as if you believe that yourself.

I'm certain of it. But you need to be.

I think you will come to the same conclusion

that State Attorney General Rhoades has repeatedly

used his seat of power to wage personal vendettas

instead of protecting the interests

of the citizens of this great state of New York.

With the latest information, I think our strategy is flawed.

No, come on, Chuck. We're here now.

Sweeney can say whatever he wants,

leaving me to disprove a negative.

Mr. Attorney General,

you will get your chance to speak.

- Oh, will I? - Chuck--

According to parliamentary procedure

in special sessions such as this,

the body must vote on whether I even have an opportunity

to defend myself.

I was getting to that. Madam President, please.

Under Article 3, Section 32,

I have the authority to recommend the removal

of any public official for misconduct.

But ultimately, my friends, it is up to you, the Senate,

who must adjudicate these charges,

hold a trial,

and make a determination by two-thirds vote

whether to act upon my recommendation.

And I expect you will come to the same conclusion I have.

Now, I have authorized President pro tem

and the majority leader from District 35

to lead these proceedings tonight

and to vote on Mr. Rhoades's fate.

Thank you.

Thank you, Governor.

I would ask for unanimous consent

to allow the Attorney General

to respond to these charges before we begin.

All those in favor, say "Aye."

Aye.

Those who oppose, say "Nay."

The "ayes" have it.

Mr. Rhoades, the floor is yours.

- Okay, let me speak for you. - No, I have to do this myself.

You don't. You shouldn't.

When has a pro se defendant ever been the right choice?

You said yourself this wasn't a real trial.

It isn't, it's--

You remember what General de Gaulle said

when he took to the BBC?

No, but I suppose you do.

"Honor, common sense,

and the interests of the country

require that all free men, wherever they be,

should continue the fight as best they may."

The French government was all but prepared

to sign an armistice with the Nazi invaders

when General de Gaulle's call for freedom

rang out over the airwaves.

Their fight preserved their nation's honor.

This one is mine, Ira.

Mr. Attorney General, we're waiting.

Let's concede something right off the top here.

If you do this, you will be heroes come morning.

No. No doubt about it.

Any time a favorite loses in a shocker,

the crowd cheers.

And not just the punters. The flacks too.

Editorialists will salute you.

The front pages will proclaim

that the will of the people was done here.

And you will all have a few days of kick-ass polling,

telling you you have done good and right,

and taken the bold step so many before you failed to take.

So, yeah, contemporary opinion and the mood of the moment

will feel like helium, lifting you to the sky.

But that puts me in mind of a certain rigid airship

that was also the toast of its town in its day.

Named for a legendary military man,

this dirigible was state of the art.

The smartest, most connected

and influential figures in finance and government

elbowed each other out of the way to get seats.

And, for a time,

it did what it was supposed to do.

In high style.

And was celebrated in much the same way

you all will be.

That military officer,

his name was President Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg.

But instead of that name connoting things like honor,

bravery under fire, sophistication,

it now means disaster of untold proportion.

And this body politic is heading in the same direction

unless it reverses course right now.

Boom!

Oh, the humanity.

Dang, he's good.

We're here to watch him fall, not admire him.

Well, it's both.

If you do rethink this...

I will hold no grudge.

No ill will.

I understand the pressure you are under.

Every single one of you in this chamber

has been cajoled and enticed by a man

who owns more assets than the GDP

of most countries on the planet.

Cajoled and enticed to steer things his way

as he sees fit.

Not what the voters of New York asked for,

but what he wants.

If that's not the definition of corruption,

I don't know what is.

You know, what some people call anti-business

is actually anti-corruption.

What some people claim is abuse of power

is actually holding abusers accountable.

But it's easy to forget one's ideals

when there's a pile of money or political spoils on the table,

'cause we each have things we want,

and there never seems to be enough to pay for 'em.

But we were elected to stand against those corrupting forces

that would use that pile to steer us away

from what we know to be fair and just.

We were elected to be the voice for the people

who don't have one of their own.

Those who have been silenced

when they dared speak truth to the powerful.

But history hears their voices in this chamber tonight.

I unconditionally reject the charges leveled against me,

and have a public record that supports what I fight for,

and have won, for the people of this great state.

And you have a choice.

Fly with me...

or let this whole place go up in flames like a Nazi zeppelin.

Thank you.

That response? That never happens.

A great oration can change the tides of history.

We'll see.

Senator Darcy Phelps.

Aye.

Senator Kirsten Potter.

Nay.

Senator Jim Rankle.

Aye.

Senator Marcia Ross.

Aye.

Senator Antonio Simamora.

Nay.

Senator Clay Tharp.

It's always the one guy you counted on.

Aye.

The ayes have it.

This motion has been passed.

Charles Rhoades, Jr., is hereby removed

as attorney general of the State of New York.

The Senate names Miss Daevisha Mahar

as acting attorney general

for the remainder of Mr. Rhoades's term.

Thank you all.

Drink it up, Prince of the City.

But know that you have made one mistake.

Unlike Walter Sinclair Smith,

I am not actually shot dead in my trench.

That's the thing about dead men. They never actually know it.

But everyone else does.

Close your eyes, Chuck.

It's over and done.

Right

Now

I am an Antichrist

I am an anarchist

Don't know what I want But I know how to get it

I want to destroy passerby

'Cause I

Wanna be

Anarchy