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306 confirmed dead so far

in this devastating and brazen attack on innocent Parisians...

Claiming responsibility for the assault

is a Lebanese-born Syrian, Mousa bin Suleiman.

This morning, he released the following video.

I regret the death of children and women.

Our children die every day.

Paris was only the beginning.

He just posted these videos.

It's smart, sophisticated propaganda.

- For all your Muslim roots... - For the aspiring jihadi youth.

we have to...

- bring this war... - It's a fucking music video.

from our land to their land.

And this last one is a call to arms for all Muslims

- around the world. - In the name of God...

to all the Muslim people with

- all your tribes... - But he isn't Muslim.

- and your beliefs... - He's just a fucking psychopath.

No, that's what he wants you to believe.

So you would react to him emotionally.

- Could've stopped it. - Oh, really?

You have a cape on under that shirt?

The brother. Ali Suleiman.

He wasn't just in Paris for the wire transfer.

He was in Paris for this.

He knew what was gonna happen.

And he knew where.

- And if I hadn't shot him... - Uh-huh.

A friend of mine in the Bureau told me a story.

After 9/11,

a guy who worked for American Airlines called the FBI tip line

to turn himself in.

He was working at Dulles the morning of the attacks,

checking tickets at the gate... business as usual.

And these two Middle Eastern fellas come through the line.

They presented their boarding passes,

he checked them in and waved them on through.

As they're walking away,

he happened to look down at their shoes,

and he notices they're cheap.

Scuffed up.

They don't match the first-class tickets

or pressed collared shirts and new khaki pants.

One hour later, those men

flew that Boeing 757 into the side of the Pentagon.

He blamed himself for putting those hijackers onto the plane,

but what should he have done?

Called airport security because they had dirty shoes?

Of course not. That would have been irrational.

And you...

blaming yourself for this...

... that's irrational, too.

Not to mention narcissistic.

- Hello. - Hello.

Name?

Hanin Abdullah.

Names and ages of your children?

Rama is 10, Sara is 14 and...

Is there someone else?

My son.

Where is he?

He's not with me.

I had to leave him.

But I'm going to find a way to get him back,

once we're settled.

Where do you intend to go?

We're trying to get to Europe.

Hold still.

Only place you're going is back to Syria.

Please! Our lives are in danger...

Turkey can't accept any more refugees.

Especially after Paris.

Paris? What do you mean?

Here's your tent assignment.

Let's go.

Next!

I ask you to return to your homes...

all my brothers and sisters.

Come back to your senses.

Come back to your homes.

- He set it up. - Do you knock?

He set it up.

Set what up?

They attacked the church during a funeral service

for a Catholic priest who had been stabbed to death

in a mugging three days prior.

Okay, explain.

The attack happened on a weekday.

That church should have been empty.

How did he know that it would be filled

with other priests and dignitaries?

Because he researched his target.

He took out that priest knowing exactly what would happen.

Sheikh, Dudayev and the men await your orders.

My orders are the same...

as they were yesterday, nothing has changed.

They'll meet and travel south into Italy together.

It's just... they're getting anxious.

The longer...

We will wait for my brother.

Understood?

Any news about my wife and daughters?

Yazid hasn't checked in.

Brother!

Come here.

You're one of Al-Radwan's men.

I was, Sheikh Suleiman.

But I'm honored to be with you.

When was the last time you put on clean clothes?

This is all I have.

There's water here... to wash your clothes and yourself.

What's your name?

Ismail.

Where are you from?

Tunis, my Sheikh.

Listen to me, Ismail from Tunis.

Being poor can rob you of many things.

But it must never take away your self-respect.

If you don't respect yourself, no one else will respect you.

Go and bathe.

Get this man some of my clothes.

Yes, sir.

Thank you. May God bless you, Sheikh.

God be with you.

- Bonjour. - Bonjour.

Michel?

Mousa Suleiman.

We interned at Credit Suisse together.

Mousa.

Best foot forward, right?

Thank you.

No, please keep it.

"Mousa"?

Am I saying that right?

Mousa.

Ah.

Mousa.

Come with me, please.

I see you published a paper on digital banking...

and its effect on the global economy.

That's correct.

Tell us about that.

In a global economy,

the bankers of tomorrow

must be agile and quick.

Digital banking

and electronic transactions

are the future of banking.

My paper explored the many ways

technology will effectively disrupt this industry.

A bank such as yours...

could be on the forefront of this disruption

and gain tremendous market share.

Instead of trying to change a system,

I'd encourage you to operate within its parameters.

Relationships and trust...

are the currency with which we've operated on

for over 260 years.

If you please...

That kind of trust cannot be built over a computer.

Merci.

Site of the attack is across the street

from the Uruguayan consulate in Paris.

Their security CCTV caught these.

Now, those of you on the Eastern European desks

should recognize this man, Ansor Dudayev, "the Chechen."

He cut his teeth in the Soviet/Chechen War.

Highly proficient in explosives and chemical weapons.

Veterans of Iraq

can thank Mr. Dudayev for pioneering the use

of force penetrating explosive devices

used to pierce U.S. armor.

Now, another familiar face is Jabir Zarif,

former intelligence officer with Afghan NDS.

The other guy here, we're still trying to I.D. him,

and we're working with DGSI on that.

Sir.

The delivery system was three Russian-made artillery shells.

Most likely supplied to the Syrian Army,

then stolen from government stockpiles.

They rigged the shells with blasting caps.

A charge big enough to rupture the casing

allowing the sarin to vent out.

Nate.

I don't see any direct threat

to the United States, so I'm going to suggest

to the president we let the French handle this.

Yeah, well, if I may...

Mr. Secretary, with all due respect,

this guy's made it clear that the West is his enemy.

He killed American soldiers in Yemen.

27 of those people in the church were Americans.

This is not a French problem. This is a world problem.

- Who the hell are you? - I'm Jim Greer.

And if you give a shit, I've been doing this for 16 years.

- If you want to recommend... - What my colleague here

is trying to say, Mr. Secretary,

is that it is critical that we run point on this.

Okay, Nate.

So, tell me, without putting us in a vulnerable position,

how exactly would you do that?

Well, of course we're gonna coordinate

- with our foreign partners. - Well, exactly.

But the United States has a critical role

- to play here. - The game.

When we were in Paris, we uncovered correspondence

between Suleiman and his brother Ali.

They were using a video game system's online messaging app

to communicate.

Suleiman told Ali if he got out of Paris, he would send help.

So if we use the same video game system to contact Suleiman,

we can just pretend that we're Ali.

Only the people in this room and the DGSI agents

that we were with in the Alps actually know he's dead.

Why would he take the risk?

Sir, their parents were killed in 1983

in the Bekaa Valley.

They were forced to relocate to France.

They grew up in foster homes.

His brother is the only family Suleiman's got.

Not to mention the little brother

saved big brother at Cobalt.

Sending someone after him is the least he would do.

So... that's your plan?

- A video game? - You got a better one?

The director's gonna need a presidential finding,

but you just proceed as if you've got one, okay?

- This meeting's over. - Thank you, sir.

Guys,

come

look!

God is great.

In the Alps, they're still searching for the terrorist...

who attacked a church in Paris.

Parisians are still in shock...

I'm watching it now.

The roads are crawling with cops.

There's a checkpoint every ten kilometers.

I... Okay, okay, I understand.

I'll do it.

It is your heart talking, not your brains.

- 'Sup, Badger? - Hey.

Yo, Tombstone.

- What are you doing? - Nothing.

I was just checking on an old BDA.

- New target deck. - Great.

Hmm.

No, this is wrong.

- What? - This.

It's an old target.

It's the guy on the Vespa, remember?

- Abu Al Shabaz. - Mm-hmm.

They didn't tell you?

Tell me what?

Some Battalion S-2 officer fucked up.

That target was misidentified.

Wait. Whoa, whoa. Misidentified?

You mean he wasn't... ?

He had a son.

Look-it, just because dude wasn't a target

doesn't mean he wouldn't have been eventually.

Practically every military-age male

in that village has ties to Daesh.

It's cool, Badger.

Hey.

You okay?

I'm not...

I killed an innocent man.

You just did what you were ordered to do.

It's not your fault.

Then whose fault is it?

Ouch! You don't do it like Mom.

It's done, you're fine.

One minute.

Press it.

Baba?

Yes, my love.

Are you going to find my mother and sisters?

Sure, I'm going to find them,

don't worry.

He's here, my Sheikh.

Samir, go eat your lunch. All of it.

So, you're the leader of your group?

I am. Dr. Daniel Nadler.

M�decins Sans Frontières.

How are your people doing?

They're frightened.

I mean medically.

Dehydration's a problem. Nutrition.

What do you need?

Fresh water, better food, exercise.

Specifically, we need antibiotics,

acetaminophen, iodine tablets.

Multivitamins.

Make a list of all you need,

and I'll make sure you get it.

How long's your son been a diabetic?

Excuse me?

The reason that I ask is because there is a rare form of diabetes

that is congenital.

It's much easier to treat.

It can be treated by an oral medication.

I'd be happy to run some tests, if you like.

That's generous of you. Thank you.

W... wait. Y... you know, we have ransom insurance.

Americans think everything is about money.

What do you want with us, then?

You will get your supplies, Doctor.

Hey, Babon!

You know it was some shooting!

You're under arrest, bitch!

One of these days, I'm gonna cap your ass.

I'm gonna break your heads in!

Bust their heads with what?

With what?

OK, laugh, laugh.

With this.

Let me see.

Stop, man!

Who gave it to you?

Halim.

Motherfucker!

Why'd he give you something like that?

This is not a toy!

You don't know anything,

stick with selling falafel.

Didn't you used to come here to draw?

You ever thought about picking it up again?

Like what, drawing pictures of tourists?

What do I need money for?

You're the one who's gonna get us out of here.

You should see the way they look at me in these interviews.

When they see me, hear my name and where I live.

It's over before I even sit down. Sons of bitches.

You have to think positive.

You have to will it into existence.

How much of that shit have you been smoking?

Your future is going to be great,

you just have to believe it.

And if it doesn't, I'm fucked.

There's no way I'm putting on an apron and selling falafel.

I still have my pride.

Huh. Ouais.

Stand up.

Stand up and keep your hands where I can see them.

Come on!

You smell that?

What is that?

Incense?

This belong to you?

What was that? You want to say something to me, tough guy?

No, he doesn't.

No one's talking to you, asshole.

Okay, arms raised.

Raise your arms!

Come on!

What's going on here?

Okay.

Go fuck yourself!

Leave him alone!

Gun!

Run!

Uh, yeah, we have about 200 people here who need water.

Could you just... Yeah, thank you.

Salaam alaikum.

I can speak English.

Oh. What can I do for you?

We need to get out of Turkey.

Me and my daughters, we want visas.

How about we start with your name?

Hanin Abdullah.

I don't want to draw attention.

My husband don't know where I am.

We seek political asylum.

Visas are extremely hard to come by.

They're reserved for people with special circumstances

or people who can provide valuable information

to the U.S. government.

My husband...

Mousa bin Suleiman.

The attack in Paris. The video.

That man is my husband.

Your husband is... is Mousa bin Suleiman?

Yes.

Can you help me?

Have you got any other forms of I.D.?

- No. - No. Okay.

Where is your husband? Now?

I can't tell you that.

My son is with him.

I can't put my son in danger.

If you can't give me more specific information,

how am I supposed to believe you?

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come.

We have a lead.

A woman who says she's our good friend's wife.

Well, does she have proof?

She wouldn't say. She wanted to protect her son.

Apparently, he's still with the father.

And, uh, this guy, how do you know him?

We were at The Farm together.

His cover is State Department, but he's in the camp

collecting HUMINT.

Okay, listen, tell him to find her, okay?

- Get her to talk. - Where are you?

Monster truck rally?

No, I'm on a date.

Hey, sorry about that. I had to...

Let me guess. Work.

Oh.

- Let me get this. - It's okay. I got it.

Thank you.

We need to talk about something.

Oh, no. Nothing good ever comes after that.

- It's not bad. - Or that.

I promise.

I just want to set some parameters

for us spending time together.

Parameters.

I'm totally up for hanging out like this, but I'm just...

I'm not up for the whole... the rest of it.

What's the rest of it?

I really love my work, and...

- I don't want to get knocked off course. -You shouldn't.

And clearly you have a lot going on professionally, too.

I don't mind the occasional distraction,

like the other night; I just, um...

I'm just not up for the big, messy ones.

- This is about the helicopter. - No.

Well, I mean, the helicopter, the scars,

- you leaving, it's... - Cathy, look.

I... I'm not trying to hide anything from you.

Jack, I'm not asking for anything.

I just want to keep it casual.

Are you okay with that?

Yeah.

- Hello. - Hello.

Is Mr. Sadik here?

Come in.

Thank you.

Mr. Sadik?

Oh... hello.

Hello.

Did someone send you here?

Yes. A man in my neighboring tent... Rifaat.

He told me I should speak to you.

Sit down.

Thank you.

Stinks out there, eh?

I heard a pipe burst.

Please.

We want to go to Europe.

The journey is very hard.

Very dangerous.

And it's going to cost you.

How much do you want?

How much do you have?

I'm sorry...

It's all I have, I swear!

This?

Maybe for just one of you.

No, no, please.

I have two small daughters.

I can't help you now.

But once you have more money...

come back.

Ah, merci.

Peace be upon you.

Come here, you.

How are you?

What?

You don't like my new look?

What did they do to you?

Nobody did anything to me.

The whole story is, I've met some people here.

And thank God.

God helped me.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Ever since our parents died,

I've never felt like I belonged anywhere.

Until now.

In prison?

My body is in prison, yes.

This is the first time I felt that my mind and soul...

are free.

I want every Muslim

to feel that sense of belonging that I feel.

God has put me on a path to realize that.

And he's going to show me the way.

Time's up.

I promise you...

everything will be different when I get out.

Peace be with you.

No, brother.

Not if she's been with you first.

Jesus.

What?

Want a little pancakes with your syrup?

You want to talk about it?

About what?

So, I talked to the C.O.

And?

He told me to take some leave.

Ten days to decompress.

Whatever the fuck that means.

He ordered you?

As of tomorrow.

So what's wrong with that?

Go to Lake Mead, get some pussy,

- chill out. - Fuck Lake Mead!

It's not like taking leave is gonna solve anything.

Then what will?

I... I was in the top three percent in my class at flight school.

And then, a month before graduation,

some dickhead master sergeant comes and says,

"Everybody pack your shit. The drone program needs bodies."

I was supposed to be a pilot.

So, what,

you're pissed 'cause you didn't get the duty station you wanted?

No...

It's not about me, Ava. It's this. It's what we do.

We sit in a trailer 10,000 miles away

and we push a button and someone dies.

It don't matter if we're 10,000 miles away

or 10,000 feet in the air; it's the same shit.

No, it's not.

Pilots, real pilots, they go to war.

They can get shot down, they can get captured,

they can die.

We sit in a trailer and we play video games.

And then we come here and we have fucking breakfast?

You're my boy, but you're trippin'.

Every bad guy I put in the dirt

is one less bomb that goes off in a market somewhere,

one less car that blows up at a checkpoint full of Marines.

And when we check in,

I need to know that my wingman has my back.

So whatever it is you need to do to get your mind right,

you go do it.

- Dr. Ryan, are you ready? - I think so.

- We got this? - Yeah.

It's all set up.

Sign in with the username he used in Paris.

Yeah.

Okay.

That's the last game he played. You're online now.

So you can message him directly right there.

Now, when you're chatting with him,

it'll translate directly from English to French

and vice versa.

- Got it. - Okay.

DGSI is on site in Chamonix,

ready to move in if Suleiman sends anyone for his brother.

All right, everybody, here we go.

You ready?

In position.

Okay.

Be careful.

Slowly.

Sheikh.

Ali?

He's on.

We're okay.

All right.

Address?

- Come on, Noreen. - Right here.

I've got the address.

Get ready!

Okay. Ask him how long.

Just a minute.

How do we know it's him?

Who else would know to contact us this way?

You saw the news...

the French police are after him.

We have to be sure.

What are you doing?

Back-tracing the IP address.

All right, what's going... Why isn't he answering?

He's tracing our I.P. address.

Is that a problem?

No. No, we expected it. I got it.

Okay.

Chamonix, France.

Oh, shit. Who's got this?

Let's go, guys!

Get on it, get on it.

I've got it. Got the address.

Come on, right now, right now.

Pulling up sat imagery right now.

Jesus Christ, that was 15 years ago.

What if they've repainted it?

Best guess, guys.

- That looks old to me. - You're right.

- Just go with green. - Green?

- Green. - Yes.

- 'Cause we're sure, right? - Yes.

Is it correct?

He bought it.

Wait a minute, why isn't he... why isn't he signing off?

Well, maybe he's waiting for you.

He's still online, Jack.

- This is some kind of test. - What?

Shit.

- Fuck. - All right, shut it down.

- It's not over. - He knows no one's coming.

- It's not over. Just wait. - It's a lie.

- He knows no one's coming. - Just wait a second.

Shit.

- Ryan. - What are you doing?

I said shut it down, Ryan.

We have to close.

Wait a minute.

Jesus Christ, he knows who you are.

Careful.

Jack.

Who the fuck is Hanin?

Just wait a minute. He's onto something.

- He's gone. - I knew it.

Whoa, what the fuck just happened?

If it wasn't true, he would've denied it.

Ryan, denied what? Denied what?

Are you sure about this?

- I'm sure. - Sure about what?

There's a woman.

There's a woman in a Turkish refugee camp

who claims she's his wife.

It's her.

Then find her.

Talk to your boss.

I took care of everything.

Everything is fine.

Let's go, let's go!

The woman and the two girls?

Where are they?

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