Original subtitles

No, no!

You don't have to do this.

No!

Real estate agent was giving a tour a little after 6:00 a.m.

Spotted our victim when she went to show

her client the loading dock.

6:00 a.m.'s a little early for a tour, isn't it?

Client stepped straight off a red-eye

from SFO to see the place.

Whole block just got reclassified

as a Federal Opportunity Zone.

Hence our ticket to the dance.

So what are we looking at? - Nothing good.

Appears our victim was first run over with a car,

then shot twice in the back of the dome.

Damn, guy wanted him dead pretty bad.

All right, you ID the body?

No, nothing in his pockets,

and facial rec is out of the question,

given the headshots.

All right, I'll get M.E. to run prints and swab for DNA.

Then we'll have ERT catalogue the tire tracks

after they bag up the shell casings.

Did your team canvass for cameras yet?

Still looking, but so far coming up empty.

This block hasn't had a working factory in over 40 years.

Pretty good place to commit a murder.

Hey, OA, I got a stamp here.

Looks like the initials are "IR."

All right, folks, so today's mystery

is a dead John Doe outside an abandoned factory in Red Hook,

and since nobody accidentally gets shot twice in the head,

let's find ourselves a shooter, shall we?

Where are we with IDing the body?

Well, biometrics are a no-go.

DNA and fingerprints both come back empty.

Mm, which means our guy's never arrested.

Or paid to learn he's 1/16 French.

And NYPD's right.

The whole block is a dead zone as far as cameras go.

What about the tire tracks?

Late model high-end SUV. It doesn't tell us much.

All right, well, that leaves us

with the hand stamp that Maggie found.

It's gotta be from a bar, right?

Yeah, I found five places in the tristate area

with the initials IR, but one still uses hand stamps

according to the calls I've made,

a place called Infrared down on Canal Street.

All right, let's have Tiffany and Scola check it out.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's one of ours.

The crown with the IR inside it is Tuesday.

So last night then?

I guess so. What's this about?

A murder.

We're trying to ID the victim of a homicide.

He was here last night at your bar.

That thing recording?

Yeah, the camera dumps to a laptop in the back.

I'll grab it.

Right there.

Gray hoodie, blue jacket. That's our guy.

Mm-hmm, looks like he gets into an argument

with his barstool neighbor.

Then they both leave together a little after 10:00.

Five hours later, gray hoodie winds up dead.

I mean, there's a good chance we could be looking

at victim and killer here, Tiff.

Yeah, I mean, at the very least,

we just ID'd John Doe

'cause he paid with his credit card at exactly 10:06.

Excuse me.

We're gonna need access to last night's receipts.

All right, so thanks to Tiffany and Scola

and our good friends at Visa, our John Doe now has a name.

Meet Cole Dixon, 38.

Let's figure out who this guy was and why he was killed, huh?

Okay, looks like Cole lived in Bay Ridge.

He's got a wife, ten-year-old son.

- Mm-hmm. Priors? - None.

How about employment?

Whatever it is, it's off the books.

I'm seeing regular cash deposits in the bank account.

Uh-huh, which means the IRS like this guy

about as much as Jimmy Two-Shots did.

All right, what about the other guy

that left the bar with Cole?

It's too dark in the bar for facial rec,

and the hat's a problem.

I'm trying to brighten it up, but lose resolution.

All right, keep working on it.

I'll take as good as you can get.

All right, in the meantime, let's have Maggie and OA

pay a visit to Cole's widow.

Maybe she can tell us why he was murdered.

Yes.

I don't understand.

You're saying this is my husband?

I mean, Cole was wearing a gray hoodie yesterday, but--

Have you heard from your husband

in the past eight hours?

No, I was getting Lucas over to school.

Cole should have been home by now.

Oh, my God, it's true, isn't it?

Why would someone do this to him?

I know this is really hard to digest.

I'm sorry.

Did Cole have any enemies?

Enemies? No. He was an Uber driver.

There's no record of that.

He hasn't filed a W-4 in a few years.

What are you talking about? He had a shift last night.

He started driving at 9:00.

No, last night at 9:00,

he was at this bar called Infrared in Manhattan

with that guy.

Do you know him?

Ma'am, our best chance of finding whoever killed Cole

is for you to tell us everything that you know.

Okay, the man in this video-- - I don't know him.

I don't know how to say this,

but sometimes, I worry that Cole had secrets.

Okay. What kind of secrets?

I think--

I think he was hiding money in the garage.

I never told him I found it, but Cole kept this safe

hidden under a pile of old moving blankets out there.

It would be really helpful if we could take a look at that.

I don't know the combination,

but I can show you where it's at.

Got it.

Nice safe.

Especially for an Uber driver.

What are we looking at?

I mean, we got a lot of cash, maybe $10,000, $12,000.

Hey, Ian, a couple burner phones.

I'll take those. Thank you.

It looks like--

and some sort of ledger.

All right, so he's running some kind of business.

See if you can figure out what kind.

I mean, it's just a bunch of incoming and outgoing payments.

Drugs, contraband, numbers?

Oh, hey, guys, Cole just got a text.

"Are you ghosting me?

Thought you had info on a big score."

Okay, so whoever that is

is obviously doing business with him.

Can you track it?

Let's see.

Not fully, the number that that came from is unregistered,

and the GPS is off,

but the text just pinged off a tower in Long Island City.

What are you thinking?

I'm un-ghosting our person of interest.

All right, "Let's meet. Gantry Plaza"?

Yeah.

Okay, "One hour."

Okay.

Okay, be careful.

I'll have Tiffany and Scola meet you there.

All right.

Okay, guys, we got incoming.

Got a middle-aged woman.

She seems like she means business.

Looks like she's packing a pistol

under that jacket too.

Okay, I got her texting someone now.

Yep, that's Cole's associate.

Let's move in cautiously and watch the crossfire

as we approach in case that pistol comes out to play.

All agents stand down.

Come again?

- We're holding. - What's going on?

I know her. It's Gwen.

She's FBI.

All right, folks, listen up.

This is Gwen Carter from the BQ drug squad,

longtime friend of Maggie Bell.

Evidently got her into Quantico ten years ago.

She is also Cole Dixon's handling agent.

So Cole Dixon was an FBI source?

Not exactly, he was more like a professional informant,

and a damn good one too.

He helped me take down dozens of dirtbags

in the last ten years.

And that cash we found in Cole's lockbox,

turns out it was from us.

Now, obviously, given Gwen's intimate knowledge

of our victim, she will be joining

the investigation moving forward.

Okay, do we think that Cole died because he got made?

Possibly, but right now, our bigger concern

is what he was investigating when he was killed.

Yeah, last week, Cole said

that he'd stumbled onto a major score,

one that could potentially cost hundreds of lives.

Okay, do we know what it was?

No, but Cole always held his fire as long as he could

to avoid warrant issues,

but in Narco, particularly with modern fentanyl--

Hundreds of lives means a hot batch.

Exactly, so we need to find out whose crosshairs

Cole landed in before a lethal dose of poison hits the street.

Where are we at reconstructing

Cole's last few days?

Not far--his wife thought that Cole was an Uber driver.

But we do know that Cole got into an argument

with another patron at the Infrared bar

before leaving together.

Ian, can you throw up that footage?

Yeah, this is as bright as I could get it.

Okay, yeah, that's Daryl Watkins,

AKA Little Daryl.

He runs a dice game in Brooklyn.

He's one of Cole's sub-sources.

And you think this Daryl could have killed

your informant, turned on his buddy for a bigger payday?

Well, he's a criminal with a gun.

It's a good place to start. - Yeah.

So, Gwen, I gotta ask,

what was Maggie like back in Indiana?

- Cocky. - Confident.

And reminded me a little too much of myself.

But I knew from the start she had what it takes.

There was no fear when she stepped onto that task force.

Well, I couldn't have asked for a better mentor

to show me the ropes.

Oh, don't get sappy.

And "mentor" makes me sound old.

Mm.

Let's pull over here.

Yep, I got Daryl in a green hat rolling dice with three others.

We approaching on foot?

No, they'll see us coming a mile away.

Let's pull up hot in the Tahoe. - Got it.

- Daryl! - FBI!

Hey! - Hey, you okay?

Yeah, good. It's a cramp, go!

- Where you going, Daryl? - What the hell, man?

We just have a few questions that you need to answer.

Look, you talk to us here, or you're gonna talk to us

back at 26 Fed with cuffs on.

It's up to you.

Man, we was just playing Yahtzee.

Be smart, Daryl.

Don't dig a deeper hole here by lying.

Cole Dixon was murdered last night,

and you were the last person seen with him.

What? Cole's dead?

Shot twice in the head. Did you do it?

- Hell no! - No?

We have you on video talking to him at Infrared last night.

The conversation looked pretty heated.

Yeah, but we--

Where were you between midnight

and 3:00 a.m. this morning?

Chauncey's Poker Room. Like 15 people saw me there.

And I split off from Cole two blocks after the bar.

He went to some other joint in Red Hook.

So what were you fighting about at the first place?

Okay, you tell us, or I'm gonna book you

for this illegal Yahtzee game you were playing.

Money, all right?

Cole wanted an intro to the scientist

I knew from the joint.

Said it'd mean a big stack of dough if I did,

so I hooked him up,

and then Cole paid me less than what I thought

the introduction was worth.

This scientist got a name?

Walt Taylor.

All right, folks,

orange jumpsuit and bad hairline aside,

what do we know about Walt Taylor?

Is he actually a scientist?

A former corporate chemist, actually.

He did six years for making a highly potent crystal meth.

Guy's apparently some kind of chemical wizard.

So more than capable of cooking up some fentanyl.

And the exact type of supplier that Cole helped

Gwen take down before.

So where do we find him now?

It looks like he's got a house in Queens,

and historical GPS on one of Cole's burner phones

puts him in Walt Taylor's neighborhood two nights ago.

All right, take Gwen and SWAT now.

- Yes, ma'am. - Yep.

- Where's Gwen? - I don't know.

Hey.

Lobster roll kicked my ass last night.

Look, if you're not feeling well,

you can head home, and we've got this.

Yeah, that's not happening.

Oh, I thought playing injured hurts the team.

If I was injured, I'd be more than happy

to let you throw my own maxims in my face, Maggie.

You know, whatever Cole was working on,

he was working on for me, so I'm not standing down.

Okay, then let's go.

We're hitting Walt Taylor's house now.

FBI, show us your hands! - Put 'em up!

Hey!

That's Walt.

Two to the chest.

And these look like the shell casings.

Blood's still fresh.

He's probably only been dead half an hour.

And these look like the same caliber that killed Cole Dixon.

Guys, I got Semtex, det cords, and timers.

We have a dead informant, dead scientist.

What the hell is going on here?

I don't know what's going on, but we're dealing with a bomb.

- What's our status? - We've got NYPD canvassing.

It's not a high-tech camera street,

so we're hoping we find a witness soon.

Well, the bomb is in the wind.

ERT's getting the shell casings over to Ballistics.

I catalogued Walt's detritus for the JOC.

And Ian is working with TEDAC to reverse engineer

some of these device specs.

Bomb doesn't matter if we can't figure out who has it.

Has Cole ever brought you a bomb case before?

No, this is uncharted territory.

Truth is, looks like Cole was going rogue on this one,

somehow inserting himself into the action.

Hey, got a lady on the street who says she saw something.

Look, the guy was a weirdo, all right?

Used bedsheets for curtains,

visitors strange hours of the night.

But it's still tragic.

And Mrs. Wax, you said that you did hear the gunshots?

Yes, I was at the sink washing dishes,

made it to the front window just in time

to see two men rushing out of the house.

One of them had this big duffel bag,

like they robbed him.

Okay, do you remember anything else

about these two men?

Height or clothes they were wearing, skin color?

Both their clothes were black.

Don't remember the brand, I'm sorry.

And they were average height,

a little less than 6 foot I think.

And I'm pretty sure they were Asian.

All right, folks, listen up.

In case you didn't get the memo,

that hot batch of fentanyl we all thought we were chasing

now appears to be a bomb,

which is much less easily dispersed,

but makes a much scarier boom.

Ian, where are we at with TEDAC?

Preliminary analysis is consistent

with our witness' claim that the two shooters

left with a duffel bag.

TEDAC things we're looking at a suitcase bomb,

roughly 50 pounds.

Which could level an entire building.

Elise, you got those ballistics?

Yeah, report confirms there's a 99% chance

Walt Taylor and Cole Dixon were killed with the same gun.

Well, that confirms the murders are connected.

Right, but other than Martha's account

that both the killers were Asian,

we have no idea who they are.

Boss, I think we might have found something.

I've been digging into Walt Taylor's finances.

Looks like he took a dark web crypto transfer

of 150K last week,

more than tripled his total holdings.

That is a big chunk of change.

Could be prepayment for the bomb.

Can we trace the transfer source?

Only to Asia. Crypto makes it tricky.

Wait.

The same originating IP address pops up as flagged

in a current DEA case.

All right, well, let's get whoever's handling

that DEA case over here now.

Right.

Look, the account is part

of a two-year money laundering case I've been working,

so don't take this the wrong way,

but I'm not exactly eager to let a bunch of details fly.

Agent Lee, the truth is,

we're chasing a double homicide here,

and whoever is operating that account most likely

is in possession of a bomb.

East-19.

The Chinese gangsters?

They're growing fast,

getting more and more powerful every week,

and best I can tell,

the account's point man is a guy named Rex Yu.

He's a dangerous dude.

Be careful when you make your move.

All right, people, so we have a new suspect,

or at least an organization of interest,

because according to the DEA,

the influx of cash in Walt Taylor's account

came from the Chinese gangsters East-19.

So would somebody please tell me

how a bomb fits their profile?

It doesn't, at least not if the past is any prologue.

East-19 is known for running drugs and women

across the Pacific, not for blowing things up.

There's no apparent ties to any terrorist organizations.

Right, and nevertheless, East-19 paid Walt Taylor

for something made out of Semtex.

What about Rex Yu?

The DEA agent said he controls the money.

According to the file DEA sent over,

it looks like Rex isn't afraid to get his hands dirty either.

It says Rex and a junior lieutenant,

guy named Ethan Chen, are suspected

of at least a half dozen murders in the last few years.

So how well do Ethan and Rex match up

with Mrs. Wax's description?

Pretty well, actually.

They're both a couple inches shorter than 6 foot,

like she described.

They're obviously both Asian, and the DEA file says

Rex is a regular at the Infrared bar on Canal Street.

Which connects them to Cole Dixon.

Where do we find Rex now?

He operates out of an old auto shop in Red Hook.

Bring him in.

OA, what do you see?

I got movement inside, two male suspects.

One of 'em Rex Yu? - Affirmative.

The other one looks early 20s, could be his partner,

Ethan Chen.

- Ready? - Let's do it.

Okay, us three are gonna take the front.

Scola and Tiff, you guys cover us from across the street.

We'll go on my mark.

Rex Yu, FBI! - Stop!

Flank wide! - He's running.

Rex!

Ethan Chen, you're under arrest.

Gwen, where are you? Need you to box him in.

I'm on my way. Hold ten seconds.

He's getting away with the bomb.

Maggie, we have to move. - No, we gotta wait for her.

She's not here. Let's go.

OA! We got an agent down.

Are you okay? - It didn't go through.

It didn't go through.

We need air support.

We have a black Mercedes headed east with the bomb.

Is he okay?

Where were you? What happened?

He's got a bomb, guys. Let's go.

Come on.

So is this the part where you do good cop, bad cop?

No, it's more like good news, bad news.

I'm gonna start with the bad news.

That gun we pulled off of you at the auto shop,

ballistics already tied it to two murders

in the last 24 hours,

Walt Taylor and Cole Dixon.

Never heard of them.

Well, the science is gonna say that

you shot them either way, which means you've got

a couple of murder convictions in your near future.

Unless you stop fiddling with those handcuffs

and listen when I tell you the good news.

Okay, I'm listening.

I'm gonna be honest with you, Ethan.

I don't think you planned those two murders.

And I don't think you planned what's coming next.

So you have one shot right now

to talk your way out of life in prison or worse.

Where is Rex Yu, and why does he want a bomb?

Something funny?

Yeah, real funny.

I was an 11-year-old orphan in an abandoned gas station

when Rex found me.

The guy took me in, sent me to school,

gave me money, a life.

Ain't no way in hell I'm selling him out.

Now get me a lawyer.

Wrong choice, kid.

So what do you think?

I think we're trying to draw water from a stone.

Then we had better hope like hell that Maggie and OA

find something at Rex Yu's auto shop.

Yeah.

Whole bunch of drugs,

nothing that explains why these guys would have a bomb.

Close call today.

Yeah. What the hell, Maggie?

You girl, Gwen, she said she was gonna be there,

and she wasn't.

I don't really know what to tell you.

Hey, come here.

Blueprints?

There's no address.

It looks like an eight-story building.

Yeah, we've got three X's on load-bearing pillars

in the basement.

That is the building that Rex wants to take down.

- Hey, any sign of Rex? - Hey. Uh, not yet.

We put a BOLO out for him and his car.

In the meantime, we're trying to find

the building that matches the prints you found.

How's that going?

Well,, the good news is,

we know it's an eight-story building.

The bad news is, there are literally thousands

of eight-story buildings in New York,

so we need to figure out a way to speed up this process.

Why don't we take another run at Ethan Chen?

I'm guessing the U.S. attorney's gonna give us

the latitude to make a deal.

If we sweeten the incentive,

maybe he'll tell us where Rex is.

No, the kid's loyal.

He's not gonna roll on his mentor.

Okay, then how do we find where Rex is?

Okay, NYPD just found his Mercedes,

so let's start there.

Where is it?

The Brooklyn side of the Pulaski Bridge.

You wanna check it out? - Yeah.

I'll grab our jackets.

This is it, right, your BOLO?

I've got broken window glass in this empty parking space.

Rex ditched his car, stole a new one.

Let's have the JOC start pulling traffic cams,

see if we can figure out what vehicle is missing.

In the meantime... - Jubal.

What are you thinking?

Access his GPS. We got a fob.

Exigent circumstances.

Looks like house, auto shop, house, house,

and six separate trips camped out in front

of 3701 Haden in the last two weeks.

37th and Haden?

That's nowhere near Rex lives.

That's not even East-19's territory,

so what the hell is he doing out there?

Either he has a new girlfriend, or...

That's the building he's blowing up.

Hey, listen up.

We got a potential target from Rex Yu's GPS,

3701 Haden.

Tell me it's an eight-story building, please.

It is, the Wyatt, 12 duplexes and a penthouse.

Okay, okay, let's start ticking off some boxes.

Anyone living at the Wyatt have a connection directly

or indirectly with East-19 or China?

I'm looking for something that speaks to motive.

Okay, yeah,

property records for most of the units are clean.

This is interesting.

The penthouse was purchased

by a Hong Kong-based shell corporation three years ago.

Okay, can we see who controls it?

Give me a second to get through the layers.

Owner is Victor Ho.

Victor Ho, the Chinese businessman?

Or, depending on your perspective,

the dissident critic of controlled economies.

Ho made a fortune in the mainland

and then basically defected to America.

Right. Hey, Alex, hey, Anne.

CIA, NSA have anything on Victor Ho?

Looking in our files, we've got one active death threat

against Victor Ho indexed.

$5 million contract from his former protégé, Jintao Wong.

Hmm, bad blood amongst friends.

Apparently, Wong took it as a betrayal

when his mentor rebranded as a public intellectual,

but we never thought the kill job was all that doable.

Ho's a recluse in America. He's security-paranoid.

Lives behind bulletproof glass. He never goes outside.

Actually, that could explain why they're using a bomb

and not guns.

It's the only way to complete the hit.

But can we tie Rex Yu to this jealous protégé of Ho?

Well, not all the way, but we can get close.

You remember that crypto account Rex controls?

Yeah.

He got a $2.5 million deposit in there last week.

The payment for the contract, half up front maybe.

Plus, the DEA file says East-19's trafficking business

ties directly back to a handful of Chinese oligarchs,

including Jintao Wong.

Ding-ding-ding. We have a winner.

All right, so we know Rex Yu walked

out of the auto shop holding the bomb,

so let's assume he's looking to plant it himself.

Yeah, and if he is, there's gonna be

a massive virtual audience for the explosion.

What do you mean?

According to Twitter, Victor Ho livestreams

his dissident views from his penthouse

on the first of the month at 4:00 p.m.

Looks like it draws a huge following

among the pro-democracy Chinese diaspora.

So that "huge score" Cole Dixon stumbled upon

is gonna be an international incident.

All right, let's alert Victor Ho's security team

we have a credible threat unfolding.

East-19's coming at them with a bomb.

We need our agents and the bomb squad at the Wyatt now.

Yeah.

Carla!

What's the situation on the ground?

Bomb squad's just starting to clear the basement.

Okay, Tiff and I will give them an extra set of eyes.

Okay, we'll take the lobby.

Hey, Gwen, hold up.

Rex Yu's possibly in there,

so I need you to watch the perimeter.

What the hell are you talking about?

Just watch out for Rex.

- Maggie, the bomb's in there. - I know.

Look, I know what's going on with you.

I know that you're sick.

Okay, I don't--

No, no, the pain, the stumbles, the nausea.

It's all a byproduct of the medication

that you're taking.

You're out of line.

I saw the med-pen.

Stand down.

How are we looking in the basement?

We're looking, Maggie, but nothing yet.

Have you located the pillars

that Rex marked on the blueprints?

Yeah, but if he planted a bomb down here,

it has to be in one of these storage lockers.

We've still got a half dozen of these things to pry open.

Copy.

No, he's not coming out.

Sir, we need this entire building evacuated immediately.

This is not a suggestion. We have a credible threat.

All due respect, agent, this thing could be a ploy

to flush my boss into an easy kill shot.

Okay, we understand that,

but if there is a bomb in this building--

We'll take our chances.

Look, part of the reason Victor Ho bought

into this building is because

of the structurally reinforced basement.

We're aware he's under constant threat.

And you just want to ignore our intel then?

No, we're trusting our analysis of the building.

Maggie, we're still not finding a bomb down here.

The dogs haven't alerted on anything.

I'm thinking maybe we got here in time

to keep Rex from planting it.

There's no bomb?

Okay, Ho's going live in ten minutes,

and if his protégé wants to make a statement--

something's not right.

Hey, Maggie, what's up?

Look, the odds of East-19 backing down are slim,

right, and nothing makes a bigger statement

than killing Victor Ho during one of his big speeches.

Yes, Maggie, but you heard it yourself,

the basement is clear.

Okay, but Ho's security guard is right.

Trying to crumple the building leaves way too much to chance.

And you think that Rex came to that same conclusion.

I mean, maybe.

Look, if they really wanted to kill Victor Ho with a bomb,

all they would have to do is put him in the blast radius.

So either in the building or--

hold on a sec.

Do we have eyes in the sky yet?

Point it 20 yards east.

Maggie! - Yeah?

Rex is on the building next door.

Rex Yu, FBI!

Go, go, go.

Tiff, Scola, he's running down the fire escape.

Okay, we're on it. Do you see the bomb?

The bomb's here. The bomb is here.

Maggie, stay on him. - OA!

Stay on him!

- OA-- - Go!

See if you can cut him off at the bottom.

We're almost there.

We need to set up a containment now.

Carla. - Yes, I'm on my way up.

No, no, no, there's no time.

We have T-minus one minute and counting.

I need you to talk me through how to disarm this myself.

What are you looking at?

I have a timer, four wires going to a circuit board,

and then three outgoing wires into the charge.

About 25 blocks of C-4.

Any way to pull the blasting cap?

Negative, it's buried.

Then focus on the output wires.

They are all white.

How do I know which one to cut?

The thicker the wire,

the more amperage it can carry.

Okay, I think it's the middle one.

Are you sure?

No.

But there's no time.

I'm cutting it.

We're good. The bomb is disarmed.

Maggie, where are you with Rex?

He got away. He's in the wind.

Copy that, I'm coming.

Hey, any luck?

Hey, we are working on it, but no,

and every second we don't find Rex increases the odds

that we won't.

Jubal, we got a potential BOLO hit in Midtown.

Okay, that's what I like to hear.

Where? - 44th and Walker.

Beat cop thought he saw a guy.

44th and Walker? Where the hell's he going?

Uh, let's try to confirm that, please.

What do you mean?

I mean, all the direct ways to get

out of the city from the Wyatt are on the other side

of the island heading east.

Unless he's going for Embassy Row.

The consulate.

Enemy of my enemy.

No one hates Victor Ho more than Beijing.

Confirming Rex is in Midtown!

I've got him on a traffic cam at 47th and Walker

one minute ago, still headed west.

All right, alert the team

Rex is headed for diplomatic cover.

Copy that, we are approaching the consulate now.

That's him. That's Rex.

Rex!

Maggie, checking out the northwest stairwell.

No.

I don't do the perimeter.

Hey.

Thought I'd find you here.

Drink?

No, um...

I just wanted to come by and say thank you

for saving my life.

The case is over. We got a good result.

Let's just leave it at that.

You know I can't do that.

You can't?

Or you won't?

My partner almost got killed today.

Look, Gwen...

don't do this. - Do what?

Don't make me the bad guy

because I know something is wrong.

We're friends. You can talk to me.

What's going on?

They diagnosed me with multiple sclerosis.

That's what the medicine's for.

Doctors say it's treatable,

so I will live a basically normal life.

But--

Have you told any of your supervisors?

I've given 28 years of my life to this job, Maggie.

It's all I know how to do.

They'll pull me from the field.

I know.

But isn't that better than putting

other agents' lives at risk?

You know, one of the first things you taught me

was that no one's bigger than the bureau.

It doesn't matter how much you love your job.

No one.

Never thought that would come back to bite me on the butt.

I was right.

I trained you well.

You're the best.

Will you have a drink with me now?

- Yes. - Okay.