All language subtitles for Reacher.S01E05.No.Apologies.1080p.10bit.BluRay.AAC5.1.HEVC-Vyndros

NEWSCASTER: (ON RADIO)
The FAA is still gathering information,

but at this point,
stress that all evidence

points to mechanical failure.

Washington's recent budget cuts

will put an end to heightened
Coast Guard patrols

along the Southeastern seaboard.

Critics say the year-long
blockade has been credited

with hundreds of successful
search-and-seizures

-of contraband, including...
-(TURNS RADIO OFF)

We shouldn't have left her,

just lying dead there.

We called 911.

FINLAY: Still...

We couldn't stick around.

Margrave PD is dirty.

Who's to say that Atlanta
or Georgia State Police

aren't on Kliner's payroll, too?

The only way to make Molly Beth's
death mean something

is by catching whoever killed her.

We can't do that if we're shot dead

by crooked cops
or rotting away in jail

with her murder pinned on us.

Pull over.

What the hell are we doing?

Long story. Be right back.

-(WHINES)
-It's okay.

What's he doing to you?

Collar's cutting him.

Enough of this.

What are you doing?

Dog didn't do anything to anybody.

Doesn't deserve this.

I told you to stay off my property!

(GROANS)

-Seriously?
-(DOG WHINING)

Let's see how you like it.

(GROANS)

(SPITS)

-REACHER: Let's go, boy.
-Come on.

(SIGHS)

Okay.

So, what are we gonna do now?

Take the dog to a no-kill shelter,
then drop me off at Hubble's.

Why?

Last car they gave me is full
of bullet holes.

Need a new one.

FINLAY: Okay, we'll see you
at the station house parking lot.

Hey. Are you okay?

I never should have
let her get involved.

That'll do.

(REVS ENGINE)

(TIRES SQUEAL)

(THUNDER CRASHES)

(THUNDER ROLLING)

(COWS LOWING)

How come your owner's
buying you and your pals so much feed?

Lot of help you are.

(VEHICLE APPROACHING)

(TIRES SCREECH)

Shit!

(LAUGHS) And so
I'm stuffing this sucker

full of M-80s, cherry bombs,
ash cans...

-Bottle rockets
-...bottle rockets.

So, Dawson lights it. We take off.

(IMITATES EXPLOSION) Mailbox explodes.

There's burning paper and metal going
everywhere, right?

Six months later,
we're at the Gas 'N Such,

and there's old man Slattery.

He's getting arrested
in the parking lot.

Bench warrant for not showing up
for jury duty.

There was a jury summons
in the fuckin' mailbox.

(LAUGHTER)

And that's what he gets for failing
my ass in English Lit.

(CHAIR LEGS SCRAPING LOUDLY)

Look, it's the war criminal.

Hey, you're hungry,
I'll buy you a meal, man.

You know, help out the homeless.

This is the guy that I was talking
to you about.

You know, uh, you and my friend
Emmitt here,

you actually got something in common.

Both played college football.

Old Emmitt here was Georgia State's
starting tight end for three years.

According to your records,
you played one game for Army.

What happened, man?
You couldn't hack it?

They kicked me off.

What for?

Being too violent.

(SNIFFS)

You're interrupting our lunch.

Let me ask you something.

What kind of man are you?

A stupid man?

A bitter man?

Or are you just...

an insecure, spoiled rich boy
hiding behind Daddy's money?

It wasn't a rhetorical question.

I really want to know what kind of man
enjoys intimidating a woman

half his size.

A woman who...

by the way, is beyond intimidation.

I think I know
what kind of guy you are.

You're the kind of guy
that knows things.

You knew I'd come after you
when I saw what you did to Roscoe.

You knew I'd see your truck
right outside.

A work truck whose bed's never had
anything in it other than a keg.

And you knew I'd come in here
and cause a problem

that would most likely
get me in trouble.

But know what you don't know?

Mmm. What's that?

What it feels like when I hit you.

"Cause if you did, you never would
have picked up that paint can.

Okay.

Now let me tell you something about
Roscoe Conklin.

That little cocktease...

(GROANS)

(MEN GRUNTING)

(CUSTOMERS GASPING)

(MEN GRUNTING)

(ENTRY BELL JINGLES)

FINLAY: Drop it.
ROSCOE: Hey! I never liked you, Dawson.

Don't make me prove it.

Drop the knife, or I drop you, KJ.

Son. Put it down.

(KNIFE CLATTERS ON FLOOR)

This ain't over.

Anytime you want to dance.

Since the moment this man arrived
in Margrave,

there's been nothing but violence.

And now he's attacked my son?

That's it, you get him out of here.

Last time I checked,
you weren't my boss.

KLINER: Captain Finlay...

you're a city boy,

So maybe you haven't
heard the expression.

But if you keep digging for water
under the outhouse,

you ain't gonna find nothin'
you can drink.

So you stop this nonsense already
before someone gets hurt.

EARL: I saw the whole thing.

Junior and the boys were just minding
their own business,

when this guy came in
and started tearing up the place.

Thank you, Earl, for being a good
citizen of Margrave.

Detective.

Roscoe, take Reacher outside.

See you soon, Junior.

Molly Beth died
'cause she cared about a Reacher.

(SOFTLY) Yeah.

(PHONE RINGING AND BUZZING)

(SIGHS) It's Teale.

Chief Teale. (CLEARS THROAT)

Yes.

Uh... I wasn't aware of that.

It must have been an oversight
on my part.

What?

Are you kidding me? No, no, no.

I just got the report mixed up
with something else.

Motherfucker! Fuck you!

Easy. What's going on?

-Teale just fired me.
-For what?

When the report came in for Joe's car,

I said that the plates matched a ride
belonging to

a con that Morrison put away.

Well, Teale just pulled up the report

and saw that the car
was reported as having no plates.

He said that we're investigating
the murder of a goddamn police chief.

He's not gonna have shoddy work
muck it up.

And then he shit-canned me.

You guys have been running around,
not in the office that much.

He starts pulling up files
to check on your work.

He's getting suspicious.

I'll talk to him and try to undo this.

I'm not handing in my gun.

With all that's going on,
I wouldn't want you to.

-Just let me talk to the man, okay?
-This is bullshit!

What about him?

Is he going back to jail?

Kliner isn't pressing charges.

"Cause he doesn't want to go to court.

A lawsuit lets me ask
for discovery about KJ

for character impeachment,
his employment records

at Kliner Industries,
maybe Kliner's books.

-They don't want that.
-Okay, so what do we do now?

I'm not done with this just
'cause I'm not a cop anymore.

We go back to Joe's punch list.

It was his blueprint,
it should be ours, too.

We've been over it.

The professors are still
out of the country,

and your friend Neagley is looking
into the Memphis angle.

There's nothing in Jobling's garage.

So it's down to Gray's files.

I told you, he didn't leave
anything behind.

Actually, he did.

Not files, but he left you
his Desert Eagle.

Like, a year before he died.

Exactly.

People thinking about suicide normally
give away their prized possessions

right before they take their lives,
not a full year prior.

I want to see the box it came in.

ROSCOE: Just be careful with it.
It means a lot to me.

Empty.

(FINLAY SIGHS HEAVILY)

(TAPPING)

Fuck.

FINLAY: Language.

Was there any kind of file cabinet or
lockbox in Gray's house when he died?

No. Nothing.

Any other place he might have kept
something important?

The only places Gray spent time
were the station and his house.

That's not entirely accurate.

When we were at the motel in Alabama,

you said Gray used to get his hair cut
once a week.

Yeah.

Why does a man with hardly any hair
need a weekly trim?

Gray told me to give this
to nobody but you.

Also said
if you ever came looking for I,

he wanted you to know that...

he was proud of his girl.

(EXHALES SOFTLY)

(SIGHS)

(GASPS SOFTLY)

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

He left me daisies. (SOBS SOFTLY)

REACHER: According to
livestock auction receipts,

Kliner has 116 cattle.
All bought at once.

Oh, my God. Here we go
with the cows again.

It's a weird number.

Who buys 116 cattle? You'd buy a lot.

-20, 50, 100.
-Your point?

I don't know. It's just...

BOTH: It was a hell of a lot
of animal feed.

Well, it was.

Tell me this.

When does a family farm
become a commercial farm in Georgia?

How big does it have to get?

This is not a lead.

Humor me.

I don't know. I remember...

when my uncle got up to around
120 head,

he had to file with the state. Why?

So, Kliner stops at 116.

Just under the number
where he'd be subject

to state inspectors coming on
his land, checking out his operation.

What operation? He has cows and a herd
that is not that big.

Let it rest, Stretch.

You know what was big?

If you say
"the amount of animal feed,"

I swear to God, you're not gonna have
to worry about Kliner

because I will
cut your balls off myself.

Tomato and mayo.

Thought you folks could use
a little sustenance.

Thank you, sir.

ROSCOE: Thank you.

You wouldn't happen to have any fruit
or a salad, would you, Mr. Mosley?

I got tomato salad.

With mayo.

Between two slices of bread.

Right... right in front of you.

Thank you.

You weren't kidding about
the quality of Gray's work, Roscoe.

It is meticulous.

He reviewed every tax return
for the Kliner Fund.

Almost a full forensic accounting.

It seemed there was money
pouring out of the fund,

but it doesn't match income stream.

How does a charity attract
this much in donations when,

from what I can see,
it's solely focused

on giving to the businesses
and community groups

of one tiny Georgia town?

It doesn't. Doesn't need donations

-when it can just print its own cash.
-REACHER: Exactly.

He's been buying everyone's silence.

It's insurance.

If Margrave citizens ever see anything
off with Kliner, suspect anything,

if they're ever put on a jury
or even questioned,

Kliner has already bought
their loyalty with the Kliner Fund.

So, Kliner owns Margrave
and its citizens.

This guy's pulling all the strings.

Are these files enough
to prosecute him?

No.

Tax returns
are the end of the rainbow.

Dry numbers
that simply represent actions.

In this case, ostensibly legal
charitable contributions.

We need direct proof
linking counterfeit cash to Kliner,

and we don't have it.

Of all the places to do this,
why Margrave?

There are dying towns all over.

I'll show you why.

FINLAY: What are you doing?

Margrave is perfectly located
for distribution.

The old state route arterial systems
cross right through here.

Shipping fake cash from here,

Kliner's trucks can avoid federal
interstates for most of the trip,

literally staying off the radar
of cops

with a much bigger presence
on busier highways.

He had a very well-oiled and
thought-out operation to protect,

so he protected it.

ROSCOE: Okay. I get that.

But why would he suddenly go
scorched-earth?

A Secret Service agent
was investigating his operation.

He eliminated that threat.

So then he has
a police chief murdered?

Tries to take out another cop?

Then he goes after the Secret Service
agent's civilian brother?

I mean, that seems like
a major overcorrection.

It's the Coast Guard blockade.

News has been
talking about it for days.

Blockades have been
going on for a year,

which means no funny money
coming into the U.S.

So there's a huge backlog
of counterfeit cash overseas,

making the whole outfit
vulnerable to being caught.

And Kliner's stateside
running low on supply.

His buyers are expecting
pallets of bills he can't provide,

and the kind of guys that
buy this kind of product

don't respond well to disappointment.

What would you do with it all?

REACHER: Maybe someone wants
to buy something really dangerous

that's really expensive.

Think suitcase nuke.

But they don't
have the money to do it,

so they're printing their own.

Or they want to destabilize
the U.S. economy.

Or destabilize a strategic nation
that runs on U.S. currency,

like Panama,
which a significant percentage

of world trade
passes through each year.

Bottom line, I don't care
why they want to do it.

You and the FBI
can figure all that out

after the people that killed
Joe are dead.

Gray didn't commit suicide.

They fucking murdered him.

I'll talk to her.

(DOOR CLOSES)

I don't want to do it. I'm not going.

You and your brother
are both getting your hair cut,

putting on your Sunday best

and marching yourselves over there.

Our family is not a democracy.

You have no vote and no say.

-But...
-Shh!

Now, hold still before Grace
cuts your ear off.

All done. What do you think?

Sir. Ma'am.

Joe.

I'm very sorry for what happened.

I have no excuse for my actions.

I hope you can forgive me,
though I understand if you can't.

Your turn, Reacher.

No.

JOSEPHINE: You've had nothing but
run-ins with Curtis since we arrived.

Apologize.

No.

Look at my son.

You can't even bring yourself
to say you're sorry?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry the left side of his face
doesn't look like the right.

Those fucking bastards
spoke at his funeral.

REACHER: Roscoe.

You want to save your town?
Avenge Gray? Good.

Harness that.

Bad people should get
what's coming to them. No apologies.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Neagley.

Got it.

What'd she say?

She said she wanted dinner at 10:00,
but instead, she had it at 6:00.

What in God's name does that mean?

Ten-six is MP radio code
for "send civilian police."

Means she's found
something important enough

she doesn't trust talking about it
on an unsecured line.

And she's taking a shot at me
for being a civilian now.

She likes to poke the bear.

I just can't vanish to Memphis
for a day or two.

Teale will get suspicious.
He's suspicious already.

You shouldn't come anyway.

Neagley doesn't like
meeting new people.

If she can't tell you where she is,

how the hell are you gonna find her?

Won't be a problem.

She'll avoid tourist traps
for privacy.

That eliminates anyplace
around Beale Street.

Also anything around the university.

People older than
college students would stand out.

Neagley grew up broke,
so she watches her money.

Wherever she's staying
won't be five stars.

She'll choose a decent discount hotel.

Something you'd find near midtown,

close to public transportation.

Near a place to eat
that's reasonably priced

and isn't a chain restaurant.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Thank you.

WOMAN: How's it going, big fella?

Neagley.

I knew I'd track you down.

You wish.

I tracked you.

Ten years together
in Special Investigators,

I know how you think.

Figured I'd come to midtown,
avoid tourists,

find a serviceable hotel

close to mass transit,
near a decent restaurant.

And...

I know after a morning flight
with no meal service,

Jack The Beanstalk's going straight
for the mess hall.

And you knew I'd come to a bistro
because my mother was French.

It's got the biggest sign.

You're not that complicated.

And I wanted Cocoa Puffs.

All right, so you aren't staying
across the street?

(MUFFLED) Please.

Four Seasons.

I'm in the private sector now.
I've got miles.

Okay.

Let's go. I'll fill you in.

I haven't eaten yet.

I got beignets.

Masticate on the move.

REACHER: Pretty open space.

If anybody had a parabolic mic,
we'd see 'em.

-Safe to speak freely.
-Fine.

You need a woman in your life.

Oh, you mean about the case?

The "J.W." on your brother's
punch list

was an EPA investigator
named Jimmy Dupree Wilks.

-Was?
-Gunned down in his home.

Dead fed.

So FBI jumped in?

Determined it was a random burglary
gone bad.

You think they're wrong.

Murder weapon was a small caliber,
nine millimeter, subsonic.

Burglars don't use silencers.

Most don't carry guns at all.

Also, burglars steal things.

Nothing was taken.

Affirmative.

One more odd detail.

The body was beaten like a pinata,
post-mortem.

Don't see that every day.

Happens more often than you think.

Meaning?

That's what they did to my brother.

Shit.

You're gonna Kill
a whole lot of people, aren't you?

Already started.

Well, you should know, then,

I'm not the only one who thought
there was something anomalous.

Memphis cop, Aucoin,
he caught the Wilks case

and was looking into it
before the FBI took over.

His original report noted
his suspicion.

So you tracked him down.

He said he's been waiting five years
for a call from someone about this.

He and his partner are gonna take us
to meet a Cl,

low-level hitman who might know
who was hired to kill Wilks.

EPA investigators
aren't common targets.

Where was he poking around?

Made a FOIA request for his records.

He was looking into toxic pollution
levels in the Mississippi.

Source?

Wish I could tell you,

but the first two chapters
of Wilks' report

cover the extent of the pollution

and the third chapter,

the one that deals with the source,
IS missing.

Let me guess.

The EPA can't locate it.

Lost like Roanoke.

Like the pages were never written.

But the pollution seemed to hit
hardest at Chester, Arkansas.

So that's where we go.

(EXHALES) Reacher...

they made files disappear
at a federal agency.

You're not tracking some corporal
who punched his sergeant.

These people are connected
and stone-cold killers.

Something happens to you...

it would be like losing two friends.

You know, given your size.

(GOATS BLEATING)

Let me ask you something.

If a guy I like for the murders
was ordering 18-wheelers

full of animal feed
when he doesn't need nearly that much,

would you see a connection
with what we're looking into?

Not off the top of my head.

Hell of a lot of animal feed, though.

That's why I like you, Neagley.

Why are you so big?

Genetics.

Beignet?

(JASPER SINGING SOFTLY)

No, no, no, no!

Darn it!

-(KNOCK AT DOOR)
-Mmm!

-Roscoe.
-Am I interrupting?

No, no, I was just finishing,
finishing up some wor...

uh, medical examining...

Um, what can I do for you? Don't tell me
there's been another murder.

Maybe.

"No" would've been better.

When Officer Gray died,

I remember the mortician saying
that they had to fix a cut on his head

with makeup and putty 'cause...

supposedly he was so drunk

that he fell trying
to get up on the chair to...

you know, the rope and all.

Yeah. I recall there being
a severe contusion.

It looked like he hit
the corner of a chair

or his workbench or something.

Can you... pull it up?

Yeah, okay.

Here it is.

Would you like me
to go through these for you?

Maybe I can find
what you're looking for.

No. Thank you, I'm fine.

(EXHALES) Okay.

Instead of hitting his head
on something...

could something have hit his head?

-Meaning he was struck?
-Yeah.

That is exactly what I mean.

Suppose.

Resulting wound would,
at least superficially, look the same.

But truth be told, I never looked at
the injury that way.

-Can you? Now?
-Oh... oh, okay.

I can zoom in tight, see what's there.

There it is.

Well, that's interesting.

When you heighten contrast
on skin edema,

especially around a head wound
which produces a lot of bleeding,

you pick up micro-lacerations,

which can often show the shape of
the object causing the injury.

-MMmm-hmm.
-So if I...

zoom in a little more...

Huh.

Kinda look like a diamond.

Doesn't it?

Yeah.

Damn right it does.

(SLAMS FIST ON TABLE)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING ON SPEAKERS)

(CAR DOORS CLOSE)

REACHER: Mind if we ask you
some questions about the river?

I ain't got a license
and I ain't payin' no fine.

Not here about a license.

Really? Ya look government.

REACHER: Good instincts,
but I don't care where you fish.

Ah, good.

There's an empty oil drum
right there, Pigpen.

(CHUCKLES)

Oil drum's cleaner than the river.

That's why we're here.

To find out what happened in Chester.

To the river.

Clarron Chemical's what happened.

Took a big shit upstream.

Shit floated downstream.

Now all we got left is shit.

Who's Clarron?

Bunch of rich people
in business clothes

who tore through our town
like locusts,

not even leaving bark on the trees.

They have anything to do
with animal feed?

Production of it, selling it?

I said Clarron Chemical.

Not Clarron Grain & Seed.

(GROANS)

REACHER: Where you going?

You're boring.

I still have questions.

You ain't the first man come through

asking about our stretch of the river.

EPA came through here years ago,

talking about how the geography
makes the toxins settle here,

killing all the crawdads and catfish.

Said he was gonna clean it up

'cause no one could
earn on the water anymore.

You know what he did?

Nothing. Know why?

No.

He was killed.

Yeah, well...

so was this town.

If the river's ruined, why fish?

What else am I gonna do around here?

So Clarron Chemical's been
out of business for years.

Not bankruptcy, though.
Just dissolved.

But there was a parent corporation.

Kliner Industries.

Looks like Kliner destroyed Chester
and moved on to Margrave.

Joe wasn't the first federal agent
he had killed.

He had Wilks taken out, too,
before his polluting was uncovered.

-(CELL PHONE CHIMES)
-Just can't prove it.

Says who?

Got a text from Aucoin.
His Cl's ready to meet.

Ms. Conklin, you come
to clean out your desk?

You son of a bitch!

You fucking stupid fucker!

-I'll fucking kill you!
-Hey! Hey! Hey!

-That's assault!
-ROSCOE: I'll fucking kill you!

-Do something with her, Finlay!
-Not another word. Quiet!

I'm gonna tase her, I swear to God!

You see to the mayor,
I'll take care of her.

-Roscoe, let's go!
-ROSCOE: Look at you!

-Roscoe, let's go!
-Fuck you!

-Here you go, boss.
-You're dead!

I got my handkerchief, you asshole.

The hell is wrong with you?

We've been playing cat and mouse
with them. They were suspicious.

But now they know you know something!

I know that old bastard killed Gray.

By now Teale's calling
for your arrest.

And once you're in custody,

they'll take you out like they tried
to kill Reacher

when they had him locked up.

(EXHALES)

You're not eight feet tall,
300 pounds like our friend.

I got to get you out of town.

You can't show your face
in Margrave now.

(SIREN WAILING IN DISTANCE)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Reacher, this is Officer Aucoin.

This is my partner, Ribidoux.

No, thank you.

She's not big on contact.

Guy we're meeting is a small time
trigger-puller.

He knows his place in the food chain.

He's not the kind to take out
a fed or a cop,

but he keeps his ears open and
he's happy to talk when it suits him.

What makes you think
this will suit him?

He's been a go-to CI.

Wants to keep his seat
on the gravy train.

RIBIDOUX: Hey.

Why we got to do this, man?

This case is closed.

We got families. Let it go.

AUCOIN: I can't.

This mess got a fed killed.

It ain't worth our lives, too.

If it was worth my brother's life,
it's sure as hell worth yours.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

It's...

-Don't worry about him.
-(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

Unless he gets pissed at you,
then worry about him.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(SIGHS) I'll check in.

That way, if anyone comes looking
for a crazy white lady

with a mean right hand, desk clerk
won't know she's staying here.

For how long?

Until I figure out
what to do with you.

-You can't bench me.
-You benched yourself.

I got fired.

You're not my boss anymore, remember?

I'm not doing this as your boss.
I'm doing this as your friend.

Now, stay put. I'll be back in five.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Picard, what's up?

(HIP-HOP SONG PLAYING ON SPEAKERS)

MAN: Before I say anything,

how do I know it's not gonna
bite me in the ass?

This isn't part of an official
investigation.

As far as the MPD is concerned,
we aren't even here.

I promise I won't come after you.

Yeah. What about him?

I don't give a shit about you.

Okay.

Look, I'm the kind of guy
that bad guys call

when they've got a problem
with another bad guy.

I don't do anything that's gonna
make the news,

and I sure as hell do not
fuck around with badges, you feel me?

So if you don't kill cops, who does?

Out-of-town talent.

-A name.
-Well, uh...

I don't know what his mama called him,

but he goes by "the Viking."

That's it?

All I know.

You find the Viking,
you found your shooter.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm gonna get me a lap dance,

and no self-respecting stripper's
gonna come to a table with two cops,

this chick and a pissed-off giant.

Adios.

-Come on!
- I said no!

-Hey.
- I said no.

(GRUNTING)

When a woman says
she doesn't want to be touched,

she doesn't want to be touched.

(GRUNTS)

You earned it.

We can go now.

Some nice moves back there.

Better than the guy
who taught 'em to me.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Yeah?

FINLAY: Reacher,
we've had a development.

Roscoe used Teale's head
as a punching bag.

REACHER: Good.

Not good.
Target on her back went neon.

Already got a call from Stevenson

saying Teale wants a warrant out
for Roscoe's arrest.

Can't trust Stevenson.

I told him she was furious
about getting fired

and that she jumped out of my car
at a stop light and took off.

Roscoe?

I'm here.

(EXHALES)

Sorry, I just, uh...

I lost it.

No apologies, remember?

You got to get out of town.

Already did.
At a motel across the state line,

but we have a better option.

Picard just called,
said that he's gonna lose his job

if he doesn't find someone else

to take care of Charlie and the kids.

So I'm gonna take over.

What about the Tweed Tornado?

Thinking we have to
kick things up a notch.

Gray's files didn't have everything
we need, right?

Know whose do?

Kliner's.

I go to the source after hours.

See if I can get evidence
that nails this thing down.

No security cameras, remember?

Boy Scout's gonna do
an illegal search?

Desperate times.

Besides, it's not like
I'm killing someone.

You'll come around.

How's it going over there?

Got a lead on a shooter

who took out an EPA agent
digging into Kliner.

Just a matter of time
before I get my hands on him.

-Hey...
-(CELL PHONE BEEPS)

(CLEARS THROAT)

I need you to promise me

that you're not gonna
take out Teale without me.

When the time comes,
I'll hold him while you hit him.

Well...

guess I...

won't be seeing you for a while.

I guess not.

Bye, Reacher.

Bye, Roscoe.

You like her.

How'd you know Roscoe was a woman?

From how you said her name.

I said her name normally.

Mmm-hmm.

-I said it normally.
-Yeah, yep.

-Tell me how I said it.
-(LAUGHS)

AUCOIN: When we get to the precinct
we'll go through the alias database,

We'll look up "Viking,"
see what pops up.

People behind this have reach,

maybe even into Memphis PD.

We can't just walk right in.

-No. We can't.
-Hey, what are you doing, man?

-Ribidoux, hold on.
-Shoot him, Aucoin.

Put the gun down.

REACHER: Listen to me,
you got to shoot him.

Don't move!
They threatened to torture my family.

-Shoot him!
-Draw your weapon and fire!

They showed me a video of them
cutting a cop's balls off!

You don't have to do this.
There's no need...

Grab your gun and fire
or you're gonna die!

-You don't have to do this!
-I'm so sorry.

No, no, hold on! Wait, wait, wait!
Wait! Don't...

(CRYING) Fuck.

I'm sorry...

So sorry...

I'm gonna pull in the woods,
and I'm gonna open the door.

I'm gonna shoot you really quick.

All right? I promise a clean shot.

A fast death.

-(GRUNTS)
-(TIRES SCREECH)

(GRUNTING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(REACHER EXCLAIMING)

Jesus Christ!

Fuck! Okay, okay!

(HORN HONKING)

FRANCES: Oh, God.

RIBIDOUX: Hey! Hey!

Help! Get me out of here, please!
Help!

-Who threatened you?
- I don't know!

-I need a name!
-Tell him!

I don't know. They had accents.

That's all I know! Please!

Please...

Please let me out.

My friend and I are getting out
of here.

I can try and take you with us,

but if I do, you're going to jail,
and they'll kill you inside.

And then they'll come for your family,
and you know what they'll do to them.

It's your call.

Hail Mary...

full of grace,

the Lord is with thee,
blessed are thou...

Take a deep breath.

-(INSECTS TRILLING)
(FROGS CROAKING)

(GASPING)

(PANTING)

You do not mess
with the Special Investigators.

You do not mess
with the Special Investigators.

FRANCES: Try these.

What now?

If Kliner forced that cop to kill us,
odds are he hired the Viking, too.

Finlay's breaking into
Kliner's office tonight.

Maybe when he flips over that rock,
something important will scurry out.

I'm gonna head back to Margrave.

(SIRENS WAILING IN DISTANCE)

You got to be shittin' me.

This turned into more than you
bargained for when you agreed to help.

Do me a favor and walk away.

From the guys who killed your brother
and tried to kill us?

Right.

It's not a request.

And you're not my commanding officer
anymore.

I'm going back to Memphis.

See what I can find out about
The Viking.

I'll call you when I know more.

Be safe, boss.

You, too.

(TRUCK HORN HONKS)

(INSECTS TRILLING)

(OWL HOOTING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(LOCK CLICKS)

(DOOR CREAKS)

(GASPS)

(EXHALES)

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

Guess you're not pulling
all the strings, huh, Kliner?

(INDIE ROCK SONG PLAYING)