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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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