All language subtitles for Rabbit.Hole.S01E05.1080p.WEB.H264-CAKES_Subtitles03

- Great job, everybody.
- Thank you for this.

Until the next one.
Tom's coming up.

To Tom.

- LARTER: To Tom.
- Who's Tom?

You're gonna love him.

He keeps going on about

this guy named Crowley

and some new world order
that's set up

to hijack governments
and take over the world.

I mean,
real Manchurian Candidateshit.

I can get a location on Weir.

TECH:
Shit, he's rerouting again.

- He's downloading comm data.
- Cut him off!

Okay. Got it.
We're leaving in five.

The plan didn't go
as we'd hoped, sir.

BEN:
If there's
some secret explanation

as to why your friend turned,
it's not in here.

What about the phone call?

BEN:
300 calls went

through the main switchboard

in that time frame.

And short of calling them
all manually,

I don't know what else
we can do.

WEIR: It's a simple play.
Super simple.

Agent Jo Madi, FBI.

SCOTTISH MAN: Six figures
for a bottle of booze

might seem a bit stiff,

but this is unicorn dram.

HAILEY: Remember how
I told you I worked

for a developer in Chicago?

Well, I left out the part

where I stole money from him.

- How much?
- $26 million as of Friday.

- [grunts]
- HOMM: Is he gonna be okay?

BEN:
What the fuck are you doing?

GAO: Don't know
who the fuck you are.

BEN:
Crowley.

Oh, shit.

It's all about control, sheeple.

BEN:
He is so far ahead of us.

WEIR:
We need to change the plan.

We need more people. We need
to bring my team back in.

MADI:
Uh, I've met most of
Weir's people.

I can help you ID.

- Team? What team?
The ones who blew up?
- Yeah.

[cork pops]

♪

[indistinct overlapping chatter]

What'd he say?

Not much. Classic.

Just that it's about Tom.

WEIR: Thanks, guys, for getting
here on such short notice.

LARTER:
So, who, exactly, is Tom?

Well, Tom is not a who.
Tom is a what.

Tom is an op, a dropout.

You need us to disappear again?

How long? How deep?

Deep. Fake deaths.
New identities.

- And I need it all in a week.
- Really?

- I'm afraid so.
- HAFIZ: [groans] Fuck.

Look, I know what a huge ask
this is, okay?

But I need you to trust me.

Why not let us help?

Because the guy
I'm going after this time

is really dangerous.

If this goes south,

he won't just take you out.

He'll take out
everyone you care about.

Just signed a new lease.

Every time I find
a new fuck buddy,

- something like this happens.
- I just filled my wine fridge.

All of those
wonderful-sounding things

you would not be able
to enjoy if you were dead.

So, what's the plan?

Since the clock's ticking,
I want to keep it simple.

An office explosion made
to look like a gas leak.

Like that one we used
to freak out that guy Goldman.

Exactly.

What about the intern?
Shouldn't he be here?

- I think he's a plant.
- What the fuck? Kyle's a plant?

- For who?
- WEIR: Not sure yet. Maybe Madi.

Maybe the person that
I'm worried about right now.

Either way,
Kyle can't know about this,

but we can still use him.

Locked out, he'll make a perfect
witness for the police.

Okay, so we send the task rat
on an errand.

Pick up dinner
somewhere far away.

- He shows up to fire trucks
and news vans.
- WEIR: Yeah.

I'll show up
right before the explosion

so that the security cameras can
capture my shock and horror

for anyone else who's watching.

Mm, the cops.

Cops or anyone else.

Here are some broad outlines

and the paperwork for
the new identities.

Why'd you let us spitball
if you've already got

this whole thing figured out?

Because he's controlling,
manipulative, anal...

"Detail oriented" is the term
I prefer, but thank you.

You're welcome.

We should kill that Kyle kid.

[Weir scoffs]

Well, there's a surprise.

You do know that
the Cold War's over, right?

He could be working
for Crowley.

And he might just be
an innocent FBI informant.

Yeah. And when in doubt...
[clicks tongue]

You're getting too soft,
Johnathan.

No good deed goes unpunished.

You know, I don't care
how nostalgic you are

for the good old days
of Noriega and Pinochet;

no unnecessary killing.

That's a second dig
at my age.

You don't think I can
handle him, do you? That's it.

- My plan, my rules.
- Very well.

We've been preparing for this
for a long time, Johnathan,

but, you know, sometimes
reality turns out

to be quite different.

Are you sure you're ready?

I am.

And I quote you.

"As long as we stick
to the plan,

everything will be fine."

♪

WOMAN [recording]:
You have reached Arda Analytics
Human Resources.

No one is in the office
right now,

but if you leave your name and--

[phone disconnects]

[dialing, line ringing]

MAN:
Famous Jay's Pizza. Hello?

[dialing, line rings]

- WOMAN 2: This extension--
- [line ringing]

MAN 2:
This is Key's Auto Insurance...

WOMAN 3: You've reached
the office of Dr. Smith...

[indistinct voices
overlapping, echoing]

- HAILEY: Knock, knock.
- Yeah.

So, Homm wanted me
to come get you, but...

- [dialing, line ringing]
- ...first, I... I wanted to say

I'm sorry about yesterday.

I... I probably
should have told you about...

What?
Stealing $26 million?

Yeah, you probably
should have told me.

[phone line beeps]

AUTOMATED VOICE:
You have reached a number

that has been disconnected

or no longer in service.

Are you calling
every one of those numbers?

I'm doing everything I can
to figure out why Crowley

is three steps ahead of us.

Reached out to my team.

It might take 'em a little
while to make contact.

In the meantime, I'm running
through these numbers

trying to figure out
who the last person was

to talk to Valence.

I know my dad doesn't think
it's part of the plan...

Weir, Weir, Weir, Weir.
It's okay.

It's okay. Relax.

You do not have to sell me
on this.

Isn't it possible that
this is more about

you losing your friend?

Trying to make sense of that?

In my world, that's a big deal.

So, if you wanted
to talk about it,

you could talk to me.

For those of us
who lie for a living,

our only connection
to reality are the people

who really, really know us.

And for me, that was Valence,
and only Valence.

So when we agreed to cut off
all communications to do this,

I lost that.

And it's affected me.

No, I... I get it.

Growing up without a real home,

you look for it in other people.

And for you, Miles was home.

I-I know we haven't known
each other for very long,

but I haven't had anyone
like that in my life

for a long time, either.

Someone you can just
be real with, you know?

Chicago, the money. I...

I'm actually glad that

I don't have to keep
that secret anymore,

especially from you.

So, you know, I thought
since I'm good with

you knowing that about me...

So you're saying
I should just trust you now?

That's usually how
it works, yeah.

Honestly, I don't know how
anybody trusts anybody,

given all you've got to go on
is someone else's word.

How about you try

to trust me just,
I don't know,

90% more?

Ninety percent?

Jesus Christ, 75% is high.

Oh, fuck you.
I think I deserve at least 80.

Okay, fine, 80%.
You got yourself a deal.

What did Homm want?

Oh, Homm, shit.
Uh, right. Yes.

He wants to--
He wants to show you something.

HOMM:
The good news is all of
the political donations and PACs

that Intraverse Media
gives money to

are publicly available.

The bad news is that
between Intraverse proper

and the 35 companies they own,

they donate to a total of
141 different candidates

and organizations: liberal,
conservative, libertarian,

green, independent...

If there's one candidate
they're getting behind,

it's going to take a while
to ID them.

See, this is why we need
more people.

No! No teams.

We stick to the plan.

[clears throat] And as I said,

we're, you know,
we're playing catch-up;

that makes us vulnerable.

Jesus Christ,
how much have you had?

I'm fine, and this is
very, very good.

- Oh, boy.
- BEN: All I'm saying is

we can't risk more exposure

by letting anybody else in.

How many more times
do I have to say it?

- We stick to the plan.
- WEIR: In case
you haven't noticed,

a lot has already gone sideways
with the plan.

We can handle that.

It's not worth
putting your friends

on the radar, is it? [groans]

What now?

Heartburn.

- WEIR: Maybe lay off
the Slim Jims.
- Mind your own business.

Enough of that.

- You know, technically,
that bottle's mine.
- Huh.

[phone line ringing]

You, uh, you calling
your team again?

Yeah, Cara's perfect for this
political shit.

I just gotta find her.

[imitating Ben]:
You're not sticking
to the plan.

CARA [on recording]:
Hey, it's me. Leave a message.

This is Crystal Steam Cleaners.

We are offering a special
in your area.

If you are interested,
you can contact us at

1-888-WE-TIDY-U.

Thank you. Have a nice day.

♪

[soft grunt]

[phone beeping,
line ringing]

- This is Anna.
- MADI: Anna, you haven't called.

That means bad news?

- Morello said no.
- Oh, shit.

He wants anything about Weir

to go through Rasche's office.

You're there, aren't you?

No.

Yes, you are.
You're at the ex-wife's place.

Well, I need to know
why she talked to Weir.

- A lot of divorced people talk.
- No, I mean

"talk" talk.

He doesn't have anyone
to confide in,

as far as I can tell.

She could know about more
than just divorce stuff.

- I can feel it.
- That's your gut.

But no Rasche, no go.

Ah, you're right, you're right.

I know you're right.
Thank you.

Talk to you later.

CHLOE:
How long are we
gonna sit here?

Is this what you do all day?
How boring.

I have an important job,
Chloe, okay?

I do important things.

Can I have my phone?

No.

Give me that box.

Hi.

My daughter's raising money
for her soccer team.

Or, well, I am.

So can I interest you
in a bar of chocolate?

My son had to sell
those things for band.

- I ended up doing it
for him, too.
- Every time.

Right? I hate it.

I know.

Yeah, I'll take a few if it
helps get you out of the hole.

- Still eight bucks each?
- Yeah.

- Okay.
- Thanks.

I'll get my checkbook.

I hate to ask, but can I
use your bathroom?

Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.
Of course.

Uh, just take your first left

- and then down the hall.
- Mm.

Ooh, "Chateau Figeac."
That's fancy.

I'm not a day drinker,
I swear.

It's just from last night.
I haven't cleaned up.

Oh, stop.
I am a day drinker,

so no judgment here.
[chuckles]

Date night with the hubby?

No, I'm not married.
Just an old friend.

Oh, wow, even better.

But Figeac.
That sounds so familiar.

- Why do I know that name,
Figeac?
- You tell me.

Wine's not really my thing.

- Um, it was a gift.
- Oh.

To the left...

- Down the hall.
- Thank you.

♪

Here's everything
I could find.

Are you certain
that's everything?

Yes.

Any revelation from Mr. Gao

before his dip in the barrel?

Just one thing.

Figeac. Figeac.

[exhales]

Thank you so much for the
bathroom, for the chocolates.

You're a lifesaver
twice over.

- It's no problem, really.
- And I'm calling you.

Like I said,
I'm a day drinker,

so we can talk mom to mom over

- a couple glasses sometime.
- Perfect.

- Sounds good.
- Bye-bye.

See ya.

That took forever.

I told you I don't
hear that tone,

so try something else.

Otherwise you're talking
to a pile of rocks.

Shit.

[phone line ringing]

- This is Anna.
- Uh, Anna, it's me again.

Uh, do me a favor
and have EIS flag

any activity on Weir's
employees' credit cards

and on any cell phone numbers
we have for them.

Uh, there's no way Rasche
will let you...

Well, just get it started, okay?
I'll deal with Rasche.

Uh, it's better
to ask forgiveness

than permission, right?

[sighs]

Just take the bottle, will you?

I don't have room for
all this wine at my new place.

- I don't drink wine.
- Well, regift it, then.

- This it?
- Yeah.

So it'll look totally natural.

The blast will take out
the whole floor,

and ignite a fire
to take out the rest.

- It'll be like
a Nick Cage movie.
- Nice.

I think we should
disable the elevators,

stop any bogeys
from getting in.

I'm just worried about
the accounting firm below us.

HAFIZ:
Ah, they'll be fine.

Go time will be about 6:00.

They leave at 5:00 on the dot.

I mean, they are accountants,
after all.

- Did you get a line on cadavers?
- They'll be here by game day.

Let's talk DNA.

LARTER:
Ah, man, I told you
not to go too short.

My sideburns look weird.

Who's gonna care?

You know, there's a chance
the fire burns

all the hair anyway.

- Already thought about that.
- And?

You sick fuck. [exhales]

[groans softly]

BEN:
So, what'd you find?

HOMM:
I think I got it.

♪ I think I totally got it.♪

[laughs] Really.

Oh, my God.
You-You know, um,

when you're trying
to do one thing

and then you totally stumble

- into a total brainstorm moment?
- WEIR: Uh-huh.

Well, tracking down
the PAC contributions

and connecting them
to individual corporations

would be insanely difficult.

Especially in cases of
tax shelter shell companies

and all that sort of
malfeasance,

it's a total nightmare.

I mean, if you understood
the labyrinthine dimensions

- of the Bahamian tax code,
for instance...
- Ed.

J-Just bear with me, please.

This is... this is so cool.
[laughs]

See, I'm-I'm pulling out
my chest hair

about corporate donations,

and then it occurs to me that
individual employee donations

might be a better barometer.

Want to know why I thought that?

- Not really, no.
- Oh, come on.

- He's so chuffed. Let him...
- [Ben laughs]

He kills a guy with
a fire extinguisher,

and suddenly he's in MI-5.

Yeah, I didn't, I didn't--
You said he was okay.

He's fine.
Ed, the point.

Um, o-okay.
Basically, I looked at

the executive-level donations,

and found that the vast majority
of those individual donations

went to one PAC
and one PAC only:

the America SOS Committee.

And then, when I looked at that,
I found that they only ever

contributed to one politician
on a regular basis:

Senator Nora Evers
of New Jersey.

- But she isn't even running.
- Uh, not yet.

But based on the volume
and the amount of the donations,

she definitely will,
I guarantee it.

Are you sure about this?

You have my word as
a Tier Five forensic accountant.

And the number one
trending topic on Twitter

two days running.

Well, that's what we need,
isn't it?

It's insane.
I mean, I'm going viral.

#EdIsNotDead.

- WEIR: Cover your ears!
- What?
- [explosion]

- [high-pitched ringing]
- [indistinct voices echoing]

HOMM [muffled]:
I-I can't hear anything.

Come on.

HAILEY:
Where the fuck did they
come from?

There's a door in the back.
Move!

HOMM:
What? What-- What did he say?

WEIR:
Shit! Shit! Shit!

What? What is he saying?
I can't hear anything.

- Shit!
- Something put a...
ringing in my ears...

- Shut him up,
I'm trying to think.
- [explosion]

- [cries out] Oh, my...
- [gunfire]

HOMM:
I got hit.

- I got shot.
- This is where

you hammer the wall and
pull out a bunch of guns, right?

I'm sorry. The only way
we're getting out of here

is back through them.

Shit. Smoke!

HOMM:
Oh, I-I got shot. They shot me.

- [indistinct chatter]
- HOMM: I'm shot!

BEN:
Shut him up!

In 15 seconds, I need you

to move around
and make a lot of noise.

WEIR:
What are you gonna do?

BEN:
Trust me.

HOMM:
Why is there smoke?

WEIR:
What are you gonna--

Shit.

[Weir crying out]

- Got one.
- Quiet.

- Too late!
- [gunfire]

WEIR:
Get ready.

Get ready.

- Move!
- HOMM: What did he say?

WEIR:
Get to the car now!

HOMM:
Oh, I'm gonna bleed out.

Oh, I can't feel my arm.
I-I got shot.

I got one of 'em, but
I just winged the other one.

I don't know where he went.

How the hell did they find us?

I got shot, man.

HAILEY:
You're-you're gonna be okay.

- What are you saying?
- He really got tagged, here.

- Ed, you're gonna be fine,
for Christ's sake.
- I'm gonna bleed out.

- Tell him he'll be okay.
- He can't hear me.

There's no way they followed me,
I was too careful.

Find something
to tie around his arm

- to stop the bleeding.
- What? What?

- BEN: Whatever.
- I don't want to die.

I don't want to die.

I-I want Stacy. I don't care
that she did it with Kevin.

HAILEY:
O-Okay. Can we just pull over

and have
the actual doctor in the car

- take a look at him?
- Was anyone online last night
or make any calls?

'Cause there's no reason
they should have found us.

Can you find somewhere safe
to pull over?

- Yes.
- HOMM: Can't feel my arm.

I got-- I got shot.

- Hold on.
- HOMM: What?

- [Homm groans]
- BEN: Quiet, I haven't
touched you yet.

- [Homm groans]
- BEN: Be quiet.

BEN:
Come on. All right.

There you go.

Well, you're lucky.
It's gone right through.

See?

- What did I miss?
- It's okay.

- We got away.
- It's not okay.

Easy. You can't expect to see

every move before it happens.

Yes, I can. I gamed every
version of this shit out.

What the fuck did I miss?!

BEN:
You're missing the most
obvious version,

that Valence sold us out.

- Stop saying that.
- Oh, come on.

He knew where
all the safe houses were.

- He didn't do it.
- Johnathan,

it's the simplest explanation.

He turned, can't you see?

It's right under
your fucking nose.

- You don't know that.
- I know plenty.

I know that
you're losing the thread.

You're agitated,
you're paranoid.

It's getting in the way
of your thinking.

You need to step back and see
what's really happening.

Okay, let's calm this down.

Not to mention...
I don't know what

- the next surprise is gonna be.
- Oh!

- She's got nothing
to do with it.
- Oh, no.

She's just an ordinary lawyer

turned thief turned
accidental millionairess.

You're compromised,
and I fear you're losing it.

Don't listen to him.

Weir, you don't have
to listen to him.

Now, look, Johnathan,
we need supplies.

If I don't treat
this man's wound,

his arm is gonna drop off.

Wait. What?

Oh, you hear me now, can you?

Cara just bought a wine fridge.

Cara? What, you're on a first
name basis with the victims now?

Well, I've been following
Weir's team a long time.

Okay, I'm gonna go home,

you leave it on my desk.
Good night, Raj.

Credit card records show
that she bought a wine fridge

two months ago,

- and she'd been filling it.
- Mm-hmm.

A week before her death,

she spent a small fortune
on wine,

so why is her wine fridge empty?
Where is it all?

On the grassy knoll?

Not in her apartment
when she died.

She knew something big
was coming,

and she didn't want to let
all that expensive wine

go to waste.

I mean, do you really think
that she just happened to

get rid of all her good wine
right before she died?

Okay, you know what?
Shut up about the wine,

because no one gave you
permission to go

- to her apartment
in the first place.
- [elevator bell dings]

She could lead us to Weir.

Weren't you on my ass
about the DNA?

'Cause we got confirmed matches
this afternoon on guess who?

Ding, ding, ding!
Exactly.

All three DBA employees.

They're dead. Case closed.

[exhales]

- Hey, Anna.
- Madi.

Anything good?

Yeah. EIS flagged
an incoming call

- to Cara Spader's cell phone.
- Yeah? And?

Came from a burner.

Oh, fuck. Fucking Weir.

Ask them if you can get
a location on Cara's phone.

Got it.

[wind whistling]

[breathing heavily]

[dialing, line ringing]

WOMAN [recording]:
You have reached Arda--

[Homm crying out]

- BEN: No, no, no, no, no.
- HAILEY: It's okay.

- Oh.
- No, no, no, no, no.

- Mm...
- It's okay.

All right, Edward,

this is the shitty bit.

- Shitty bit.
- BEN: Yeah.

Copy that. Wait.

Hold on. Can I have
some more whiskey?

There you go.

- BEN: All right.
- Mm. Oh...

BEN:
Attaboy.

Okay.

Ow.

Ow!

- Ed, you good?
- No.

Get some more ice,
will you, hon?

Sure... hon.

For the wound,
not for the whiskey.

[phone line ringing]

RECORDED VOICE:
You've reached Arda Analytics
Legal Department.

If you know
your party's extension,

- please enter it--
- [yawns]

You okay in here?

Yeah, just a little tired.

I don't know if you've noticed,
but your-your dad...

is spending a lot of time

trying to undermine your trust
in everybody but him.

You don't-- You don't need
to listen to him.

I know my dad is
a manipulative shit,

but in this case,
I think he's right.

It's logical. [sighs]

Either Valence has
turned against me,

or it's a leak.

Someone inside my circle.

- Me?
- I didn't say that.

Yeah, but you're thinking that.

There's that 20%.

I have to consider
every possible option,

even if I don't want
to believe them.

So, do you? Believe it?

[sighs]

I might have stuck around
at first for protection.

Yeah.

But do you think
I feel safe anymore,

knowing what I know
about who's after you?

After getting shot at?

I'm sticking around...

...for you.

But what-what's that?

What just happened?

- What?
- It's like you went somewhere.

No. No, I'm good.

I don't think you are.

I... I meant we're good.

Okay, Hailey? I mean it.
We're good.

[line ringing]

AUTOMATED VOICE:
We're sorry, your call cannot
be completed as di--

[dialing]

[sighs]

MAN [on TV]:
...and they've turned
a blind eye to the fact that

Americans face the consequences
of this crisis every day,

as deadly fentanyl pours
into our neighborhoods

and crime surges!

RECORDED VOICE:
...department at Arda Analytics.

[phone disconnects]

[phone line ringing]

[phone ringing nearby]

[phone disconnects]

[line ringing]

[phone ringing nearby]

[ringing continues]

[ringing stops]

It was you.

You were the last person
to talk to Valence.

Johnathan, let me explain.

You told him to jump?

I-I never said any such thing.

You let me just sit there
and spin,

trying to figure this out,
and you said nothing!

[TV playing indistinctly]

WOMAN:
But just watch.

♪

I had no idea he was gonna do
what he did.

- Please, believe me.
- WEIR: Believe you?

Are you fucking insane?!

Weir, we need to get
out of here.

Come on!

Fuck you.

Homm, come on.

BEN:
Go, get to the woods. Now!

[gunshots]

Come on.

- Can you get a signal?
- Not really.

Let's go.

ANNA:
EIS had some trouble isolating

a location
for Cara's cell phone,

but they got it boiled down
to a block or two area downtown.

Great.
Can you send me a pin?

Already did.

CHLOE:
What happened to
"don't text and drive," Mom?

I'm not texting.

Look, uh, I'm gonna
have to make a stop.

You will stay in the car,

and you're not gonna fucking
argue with me about it.

[exhales]

You tell me what the hell
is happening.

- Don't you dare fucking lie.
- No.

Listen... [sighs]

I was trying to fix things.

- I wanted to warn Valence.
- About what?

About how--

About how things went
pear-shaped with the intern kid.

You didn't try to kill him.

Look, letting that little shit
go is contrary to

everything I've ever learned.

- [sighs heavily]
- When in doubt, take 'em out.

Page one in the Langley manual
of unwritten things.

Uh... Be thorough, be ruthless.

There's nothing so tidy as dead.

My plan, my rules. Remember?

Yeah, well...

...it's not as simple as that,
Johnathan.

Hey, who wrote
Weir's dating profile?

You do mine?

- LARTER: Talk to her.
- Dinner orders?

- Meatball sandwich.
- I'll have the same.

- Reuben, extra kraut.
Final answer.
- THE INTERN: From Pete's?

- Katz's.
- It's gonna take me, like,

- half an hour
to get up there, man.
- LARTER: Yeah?

Well, it's worth the wait.

Have you had their Reuben?
'Cause if you did,

you'd be halfway there by now.

[sighs]

- [door opens, shuts]
- Let's go.

Fucker.

All right.

[sighs]

♪

[phone ringing]

- Hey, baby.
- ELIZA: Baby, where are you?

Are you fucking serious?

You know I'm at work, right?

Yeah, but you promised me
that you'd be here.

I didn't promise you anything.
All right?

I need you to listen to me.
Right now...

do not do clingy, Eliza.

Okay, you know what,
maybe you're right.

You're right, I'm sorry.
Okay, I'll be better.

I'll be better. I can be better.
Just come over now.

- I can't.
- What did I do?

Can you tell me what I did?

I gotta go.

♪

[The Intern grunts]

Who are you?

- Who are you?!
- Oh, fuck off.

Oh!

THE INTERN:
Where'd you get this? Huh?

Fuck off, you punk!

[pained groaning]

Hey! Help! Help!

Help! [groaning]

Fuck!

[line rings]

I'm burned.
They tried to kill me.

MAN:
Well, then,
you know what to do.

Broom it out.

WEIR:
We agreed we were gonna
leave him alone.

BEN:
But I was right.

He's not some lucky plant.

I mean, he's dangerous.
He's a pro.

- Doesn't matter.
- Doesn't matter?

- He bloody near killed me.
- Why the fuck didn't you
tell me?

Bec-- [sighs]

Because you needed
to stay focused.

- Stick to the plan.
- [sniffs]

You-You're going off
on tangents.

- You never trust me, Johnathan.
- Wow, I wonder why.

Please listen to me.

WEIR:
Why didn't you tell me?

I was losing blood.

WEIR:
Why the fuck didn't you tell me?

- Because I couldn't.
- Why?

[phone line ringing]

Hey, Anna, uh,
do me a favor.

Call Cara's cell for me.

Because if I told you that,

I would have had
to tell you everything else.

Jesus Christ,
what else is there to tell?

Your team...

[phone ringing faintly nearby]

Oh!

[phone continues ringing]

TV REPORTER:
Homm was last seen...

LARTER:
Well, we got burned!

- Listen.
- REPORTER: ...Kettering Hotel,

getting into a black car.

Police received
an anonymous video

showing Weir behind the wheel...

LARTER:
They cut Weir in.

Valence fucked us.

- You hear me?
- It doesn't change a thing.

Understand?
It doesn't change a thing.

I'm coming back to the office.

We just passed Chambers.

He's ten away. We need to...

Listen. Listen, don't kill me.

[watch beeping]

It's done.
Do I wait for Weir?

What the fu...

[alarm beeping]

- [explosion]
- [car alarms wailing]

They're dead. All of them.

What?

BEN:
I didn't know how to tell you,

so I was trying
to make it right.

And I called Valence
to warn him.

What did he say?

It's how I know he turned.

What did he say?

He told me to shut up
and let him think.

And then he said it.

You tell him I had no choice.

I should have told you.
Of course I should.

But I know how you are.
You start spinning, and...

[sighs]

You see, Johnathan,
I still look at you

and see my little boy

who needs protecting
from the world.

Look, I fucked up

all over the place.

But you know,
we have to carry on.

HOMM:
Hey, guys, there's someone
out there.

[sighs]

What the hell?
How do they keep finding us?

Oh, my God, we-we have
to get out of here.

We need to go.
They are coming for us.

BEN:
Come on, Johnathan. Come on.

Come on.

- What's wrong?
- Come on, son.

I know what it is.

I know what it is.

[sniffles]

[whispering]:
It says they are here.

[sighs]

They're not here.

They figured it out.

Left the bottle behind.

[indistinct radio chatter]

You're welcome.

[Rasche sighs]

[engine starts]

BEN:
Of course.

A $100,000 bottle
of single malt whiskey

is gonna be chipped.

HOMM:
If you ask me, the whiskey
was worth getting shot.

Monstrously epic shit.

Okay, now what?

We find him.

Then what?

We end this.

How do we go about that?

WEIR:
He owns Senator Evers.

We're gonna ask her.

EVERS:
We've lost our way.

We're not the country of
our mothers and our fathers.

We've betrayed their trust.

We have squandered their faith.
Faith to keep America strong.

And that is why I am running
for President

- of the United States.
- [audience cheering]

Listen, don't-don't kill me.

Just... please don't.

REPORTER:
So it's official.

Senator Evers joins the race
for the White House.

Please.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, please, don't!

No, please!