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- (grunts)
- Emily: Please, stop.

(grunts)

(groans)

(speaks Pennsylvania Dutch)

What the hell did you say?

(screaming)

Fuck!

(whimpers)

(spits)

- I said come closer.
- (door opens)

What happened?

Cocksucker bit my nose off.

(whimpers)

Go.

(chuckles)

(sighs) Hello, Kai.

It's been a while.

(clicking)

(theme music playing)

(chatter)

- Hey.
- Gordon: Hi.

Have a seat. Let me
get you some coffee.

I... I can't stay. I just...

Just came to drop this off.

Divorce papers.

Yeah, they came from the
mediator's office this morning.

Just figured that you'd
want to take a look at them.

Did you?

Not yet, no.

Maybe we should wait.

(sighs)

- What do you mean, Carrie?
- I don't know, I just...

I know this is what we decided.

I'm not sure. Are you?

No. No, I'm not. I'm not sure.

I made a mess of things.

Yeah, you did.

But listen, I've...

I've had time to think
about the pressure

that you've been
under all these years,

the fear that you've
been living with,

and I know that must
have been so hard.

I just wish you
could have told me.

I know. I'm so sorry.

I don't want you to be sorry.

I don't want to spend any
more time looking back.

We've got to look forward.

Is it crazy to think that
we could start over?

Well...

when it comes to crazy, I
think we've set a pretty high bar.

(chuckles)

You know what?

Why don't I hold
on to these for a bit?

- And then, uh, we'll see
how things go.
- (bell rings)

Daria: Carrie, your order's up.

Okay. I've got to go.

Okay.

You know the only
way to clean this rat trap

is with a fucking
grenade, right?

(door opens)

Welcome home.

Thanks.

Everything get
resolved down South?

Yeah.

You sure?

Well, then, good riddance.

Hey, Job.

Hey, yourself.

We okay?

DOD lists Camp Genoa as
officially decommissioned.

There's no mention
of our little soiree.

Well, that's great.

So we okay?

You almost got me killed.

- I know.
- I said you weren't ready.

- I begged you
to pull the plug.
- I'm sorry.

Well, right now, I don't
give a fuck what you are.

We got a lot of
history, you and me.

Maybe that's all it should be...

History.

(door slams)

(door squeaks)

(grunting)

(silenced gunshots)

Job: Who the fuck sent
you? Fuck it, I already know.

What did Dalton
tell you about me?

That you're past
your expiration date.

- You didn't ask why?
- I don't care.

You will when that motherfucker
orders a bullet put in your brain.

Think, asshole. I ain't just
public enemy number one.

I've done some shit for your boss
that makes me a dangerous loose end.

As soon as you kill me,
you become one, too.

- You're full of shit.
- Am I?

You sure?

Look, man. See for
yourself. See for yourself.

Look. Look. They're
coming for you.

You came for me, but
they coming for you.

All right?

I don't know how many jobs
you've done for your boss,

but this right here,
this one's the last one.

Okay? Your boss has
written you off, all right?

He's written you off. Stop, stop.
Listen to me. Wait, wait, wait.

This is what he is. You
know what he is, all right?

Listen to me, I'm telling
you the truth and you know it.

Think. Think, man.

Dalton's cleaning
house. We both dead.

Speak for yourself.

Hold up, hold up. You
can't leave me here.

- Watch me.
- Fuck that. Listen to me.

You thinking about
long-term survival,

you need to know the
things only I can tell you.

Come on, you know
what I'm saying is true.

I can help you.

- What's your name?
- Job.

All right, Job, you stay close.

You fall behind,
you're on your own.

Frazier, what the hell is this?

We don't talk much.

I figured it was
time to check in.

You could have picked
up the fucking phone.

(laughs) Yeah, well,
you could have, too,

before you decided to
renege on our agreement

and let your niece
sell to the Salvadorans.

What the fuck are
you talking about?

I'm sorry, what was that?

- Nothing.
- Good.

Flimsy denials
don't suit you, Kai.

You've always
been a straight talker.

Why don't you call off your dogs and
let us discuss what needs discussing?

It would be nice if things
worked that way, wouldn't it?

But unfortunately, that is
the sad irony of our business.

By the time we
get to talk like this,

there's nothing left to discuss.

You must have
known how I'd react

to a betrayal of this magnitude.

Exactly like you would, yes?

Just name your price,
Frazier, you got it.

(tsks)

This isn't about money.

Everything is about money.

Not this time.

Hector Morales has always
been dirt on the bottom of my shoe.

But with you by his side,

that greasy,
cocksucking motherfucker

could become a
considerable threat.

And I can't allow that.

Frazier, you're
making a mistake.

I expected more from you, Kai.

Shame on me.

(Emily gasps)

(sighs)

There's only two things
left for you to do, Kai.

And that's apologize and die.

I'm gonna slit your throat

like a fucking cow.

(grunts)

I want to hear him scream.

Again.

(groans)

Get your ass... get up.

- (gunfire echoing)
- (glass shattering)

Lucas's voice: Get down!

Brock's voice: Hood!

- Miss, you can't
just come in here.
- Don't touch me.

- Lucas: It's okay, Bunker.
- Sorry, sir.

- They took my uncle.
- They?

- The Black Beards.
- Who?

They're a crime syndicate
from Philadelphia.

And this is my
problem because...?

They're going to kill him.

I can't help you.

Thanks for stopping by.

Deputy Lotus.

Fucking Proctor, huh? What
are we gonna do about it?

- We're not gonna do anything.
- What are you talking about?

- I don't give
a shit about Proctor.
- Neither do I.

But the crazy niece, she told me
they also took my ex-wife Emily.

What? What does she
have to do with Proctor?

She took care of his mother.

- His mother's dead, Brock.
- I know. They, uh...

Oh, you've got to be
fucking kidding me.

Yeah, tell me about it. Look, I'm gonna
have Bunker and Raven set up checkpoints.

We'll call the state police.
We're gonna go door-to-door...

No, no, no, they're
probably long gone by now.

Maybe they're not, all right?
We've gotta do something.

Brock, I'm not
gonna get involved.

No, listen to me, Hood!

I have put my ass on the line
for you more than once, all right?

Now I'm asking you.

Please.

(phone buzzing)

- Job's voice:
I'm not here.
- (beeps)

Listen, I wouldn't ask
if I had another choice,

but I need some help.

(phone beeps)

Hold up. Hold up.
Hang on. Hold up.

- (distant siren wailing)
- (panting) God.

It's okay, you killed them all.

I think you killed
some of them twice,

you trigger-happy
son of a bitch.

There's gonna be more of
them. We need to keep moving.

I need a little oxygen.

(gasping)

Fuck.

How the fuck are
you not even winded?

We just ran, like, three miles.

My feet are fucking killing me.

Talk less, you can breathe more.

I'll tell you what,
Clint Eastwood,

I'll shut the fuck up when
you answer me this...

Where the fuck are we going?

We need to get off the street.

Move.

You didn't answer my question.

I got a place.

I reviewed the
digital security logs

from Sterling Safe's
headquarters in Virginia.

No obvious mainframe breaches,

no embedded viruses or brute
force attacks from the outside.

That's why I looked for
something a little bit more inside.

Sterling meticulously
vets all private contractors.

The process takes a
month, so the sudden addition

of two new maintenance
workers didn't make sense,

especially since they were
deleted less than 24 hours later.

- They made a mistake?
- No, I just got lucky.

The files were
scrubbed and overwritten.

I would never have found
them if not for a power surge

that triggered an
off-site data backup.

That's Sugar Bates.

Ex-prizefighter, local
bartender, and an ex-con.

- Robbery?
- Aggravated assault.

Mr. Bates solves his problems
with brute force, not skill.

He was the van
driver. Who's that?

Well, that's the
question, isn't it?

I cross-referenced every facial
recognition database there is...

NSA, MSS, Mossad.

Either this guy is
completely invisible

to all surveillance
cameras and spy satellites,

or he's managed to exploit

the most secure computer
systems ever designed.

(scoffs) He's a hacker.

If I'm right, he's the hacker.

CIA's been chasing their tails
for years trying to find this guy.

The online fanboys,
they call him Job.

But nobody knows for
sure who he really is.

(touch tones beeping)

Lucas: You find him?

Over the last 12 hours, there's
been a flurry of cellular activity,

all originating from phones
registered to the 215 area code.

- Philadelphia.
- Transmissions are localized
to the towers to the south.

There's a lot of buildings there,
but only one abandoned high school.

- Address?
- 57 Broad Creek Road.

Okay.

Listen, Job...

This was the last time.

(groans)

Well, look who's finally winded.

Jesus Christ, you're hit.

Get the fuck off
my Baughman chair.

Do you know how hard it is to
get blood out of chenille upholstery?

Hey, do me a favor. Shut
the fuck up, would you?

Stay here.

This place is
completely off the grid.

If Dalton knew about
it, don't you think

he would have told you when he
gave you your marching orders?

How long you been
under Dalton's thumb?

Too long. How do you know him?

I have a unique skill set.
In a rare lapse in judgment,

I rendered services
to your former boss,

thinking he was the real deal.

He wasn't?

Well, they never are.

I stick to criminals now.

At least you know where
you stand with a criminal.

So what's your story?

Mmm, let me guess.

Dalton got to you when
you were at rock bottom.

Told you he could make
you something more.

Man does have a way of
getting inside your head.

Happens to the best of us.

You said you could help
me get away from him.

How?

He can't kill us
if he can't find us.

- He can find me.
- He can try.

He got access to
satellites, databases,

and custom software that can
locate almost anybody anywhere.

But who the fuck do you
think designed that software?

(keyboard clicking)

By the time I'm
done doing my thing,

you are going to
be a fucking ghost.

Now, let's start with your name.

(grunts)

(grunts)

(groans)

Sheriff's Department! Drop
your weapons. Drop 'em!

- Put 'em down!
- Drop your gun.

- Fuck you.
- Brock!

- Emily, you all right?
- She's fine.

- For now.
- You touched her,
you're a dead man.

Those are tough words
coming from a man

who's about to get
shot full of holes.

- Yeah, right back at you.
- Nobody's getting shot.

- Hood.
- Now, there's a voice
of reason.

- And you are?
- Sheriff Lucas Hood.

Sheriff.

Well, then, Sheriff Hood,

do you have a solution in mind?

We're only here for the woman.

And Mr. Proctor?

Whatever's going on
between you and him,

that's your business.

Oh, now, that sounds
too good to be true.

Do we have a deal?

Let the girl go.

Emily: Wait, what the
hell are you talking about?

- You can't do that.
- Emily, let's go.

- No, I'm not leaving.
- Emily!

- They're gonna kill him.
- Get the fuck out!

Let's go. Emily, come on.

Come on. Let's go, come on.

It's all right.
Come on, let's go.

(door closes)

Oh, shit.

- What, did you follow us?
- Where's my uncle?

Brock: Come on.

Wait, did you just
leave him in there?

- Let's go.
- What the fuck?!

Come on. Let's go.

Lennox tells me you're
grooming your niece Rebecca

to be your successor.

We'll have to see if
she's up for the task.

I will pray for your soul, Kai.

But I think at this point,

even God doesn't know
what to make of you.

Rest in peace, old friend.

(chuckles)

Lock the door.

I'm gonna enjoy this.

Me, too.

- (glass shatters)
- Burton!

(shouting)

(screams)

Uncle!

(groaning)

They were going to burn me.

After my mother died...

I thought that I felt
the grace of God.

I thought He was
calling me back.

That wasn't God.

That was just grief.

An emptiness.

To me belong vengeance
and recompense.

Their foot shall
slide in due time.

The day of their
calamity is at hand.

And the things that
shall come upon them

- make haste.
- (man groaning)

(men screaming)

(screams)

(music playing)

♪ Love is a name ♪

♪ In the wind ♪

♪ When it blows through ♪

♪ The trees and stars ♪

♪ They make a wish... ♪

Hey.

Hey, stay where you are.

Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Stop.

I need to talk to the sheriff.

- Yeah, you can talk to him.
- You don't understand.

- He knows me.
- What's your name?

Deva Hopewell.

- You the mayor's kid?
- Yes.

Hey, hey, hey. Miss
Hopewell. Hey, hey, stop.

Miss Hopewell,
you are under arrest.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say or do will be
held against you in a court of law.

(grunting)

- These things take time.
- Yeah.

(grunting)

I can handle it.

(exhales)

- Can you?
- Most of the time.

What the fuck is this?

Jasper, Bryce.

Jesus Christ, Bunker.
You're a fucking pig?

I'm a Banshee deputy sheriff.

You're a motherfucking traitor.

I should stab you
through the heart.

Expressing your
opinion isn't a crime,

but threatening
a peace officer is.

So was torching that
kike temple in Harrisburg,

but I don't remember
that stopping you.

- Calvin still running things?
- Damn straight he is.

But if you think he's
gonna protect you from us,

you got another think coming.

Calvin should have killed
you when he had the chance.

You tell my brother I'll
be seeing him real soon.

(jukebox playing)

Thank you, boys.

Why, Colonel, right?

Were you a military man?

No, just watch a lot of movies.

What's your poison?

Maker's Mark, neat.

All this time in Banshee

and I've never
been in here before.

Well, it's...

not much to look at,

but at least the
roof doesn't leak.

Hmm.

You know, the craziest
thing happened the other day.

- Did it?
- Mmm.

Four idiots decided to steal

a considerable
amount of my money.

Is that so?

Mm, but that's
not the crazy part.

These guys actually thought
they were gonna get away with it.

See, what you have here
is a lose-lose situation.

I never lose.

Sugar: Damn it!

Thanks for the drink.

Fuck you.

Job.

Who the fuck are you?

My name is Leo. Maybe
you've heard of me.

Don't flatter yourself.

Well, I've definitely
heard of you, Job.

That's why I
doubled the sedative.

(groans)

This is actually a very
big moment for me.

(alarm chirps)

(footsteps approaching)

- You have to go back for him.
- No, Em, I don't.

- Now come on.
- Well, then I will.

The hell you are. Em,
listen to me. Listen.

Do you have any idea how
close you came to dying tonight?

They were going to
kill you because of him.

- Let go of me!
- Jesus Christ!

Open your eyes!

Do you understand? You are
shacking up with a fucking psychopath.

What, you're going to let him
die because you're jealous?

Fuck you, Brock! You coward.

Oh, yeah?

(gunshots)

Oh, fuck!

And you're welcome for
saving your goddamn life.

(door opens)

Sir.

Where is she?

I just need your
signature on this report

and you can take
your daughter home.

- She's not going home.
- What?

At least not tonight.

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry, Deva. I don't
know what else to do.

Dad.

Dad!

(crying)

Emily: Thank God.

I thought you were
dead. Come on.

Okay, we're gonna have
to get you to the hospital.

We're not going to any hospital.

- Why?
- I made a mistake.

I should never have
allowed things to go this far.

What are you talking about?

You and I will never
see each other again.

- I... I don't understand.
- Thank you for your services
to my mother.

You'll be compensated
for your time and trouble.

Wait, don't do this, Kai.

I know you're
trying to protect me,

but I'm not afraid of those
men when I'm with you.

Good-bye.

It's not those men you
need to be afraid of.

(car engine starts)

Hey.

I know this might
be hard to believe,

but your father thinks he's
doing what's best for you.

He's not really my father.

Bunker.

Sir, Miss Hopewell is
being held for possession.

Lucas: Give me the keys.

Lucas: Let's go.

With all due respect, sir, Mayor
Hopewell wanted her to stay overnight.

I don't give a shit
what he wants. Let's go.

You got any stuff?
I'll take you home.

(groans)

Sorry to wake you. I
just couldn't help myself.

I must admit, I am
probably your biggest fan.

If you wanted my
autograph, motherfucker,

all you had to do was ask.

Maybe later.

Save your strength.
You're going to need it.

(grunts)

(coughs)

It's funny how things work out.

Don't you think?

I am curious, though.

Was the decision to steal
my money made before or...

Or after you spread
your legs for me?

Do you really think I'd
fuck you if I didn't have to?

(laughs)

Give me the name of your fourth,

and I'll keep your
suffering to a minimum.

No.

- (grunts)
- Give me a fucking
name now.

Fuck you. (grunts)

(chuckles)

One way or another, I will find
the person you're protecting.

Only question is, how much of you
is going to be left by the time I do?

(grunting)

(whimpering)

(grunting)

What the fuck, Hood? You
had no right taking Deva home.

Now you listen to me. You stay
the hell away from my daughter.

5.56 NATO Green Tip.

Where's Ana?

- What?
- Where is your wife?

Jesus Christ, what the
fuck did you do now?

(music playing)

♪ I don't set out
to please them ♪

♪ God, I don't need them ♪

♪ Got to be something in
the food that they feed them ♪

♪ There's a dead-end
sign on your door ♪

♪ Just don't feel right ♪

(vocalizing)

♪ It just don't feel right ♪

(vocalizing)

♪ It just don't ♪

♪ You're a yellow
line on a highway ♪

♪ That just won't end,
that just won't end ♪

♪ Ready to get run over
and over and over again ♪

♪ It don't feel right ♪

♪ Pick up your head,
pick up your head ♪

♪ You got to pick up your
head, pick up your head ♪

♪ So let the weak ones
line up and let 'em all fall ♪

♪ Just another one down. ♪

(groans)

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