All language subtitles for FBI S05E13

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.