All language subtitles for Reacher.S02E04.A.Night.at.the.Symphony.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb-HI

Previously on Reacher...

He said 650 at 100K each.

[Reacher] It could be
a transfer of 65 million,

a $65 million cover-up,
a $65 million bribe.

We got a suspect.

Azhari Mahmoud.

[Russo] He's known to Interpol
as a weapons broker

for terrorist organizations.

He's a ghost.
No pictures of him anywhere.

If these
are supposed to be fractions,

then it's sloppy work.

On each sheet there's 26 or 27
numerical tabulations.

So, the real question is

what kind of somethings
were they counting?

You don't have to be
lonely tonight.

There were hit men who tried
to kill us in Atlantic City.

- [grunts]
- They failed,

but they had a parking pass

for a company called New Age.

[Dixon] New Age
is an aerospace company.

I'm Marlo Burns,

New Age Director of Operations.
The parking pass was issued

- to a man named Trevor Saropian.
- Where's his car?

[Reacher] We decided
to take it with us.

[O'Donnell] Holy shit.
It's Swan.

[Reacher] He was working
at New Age

with the people who've been
trying to kill us.

[♪ Harmonica Slim:
"Thought I Didn't Love You"]

Great. Well, we drove a car
through a window

so that I could read
workers comp pleadings

for a secretary who slipped on
New Age stairs five years ago.

So glad we risked prison
for that.

Yeah, I got nothing, too.
No new information.

[O'Donnell] Well, I wouldn't say

we haven't found
any new information.

I mean, we've got three
special investigators dead,

one in the wind, and the one

who's missing just happens to be
the one who worked for New Age.

♪ Baby...

What? Look, someone's
got to say it.

Was Swan working with these guys
or with these guys?

- Swan's not dirty.
- [O'Donnell] Look, man,

- we all want to believe that he isn't...
- [Reacher] I know Swan.

We all do.

[sighs]

- And you don't think there's even a chance...
- [Reacher] No.

I don't.

Focus on what we found.

Brad?

Stacy?

[sighs] This is a brad.

That is a fastener.

Two names for something
that size is stupid.

So is this conversation.

Well, speaking of names,

just found our man
in the employee directory.

Seems Swan's title was
assistant director of security.

[Reacher] Shane Langston,

director of security.

Maybe he's the guy I got
on the phone in Atlantic City.

Why would you say that?

He's the security boss
and bosses give orders

and the guys we killed
had orders to take us out.

Just a theory.

He could be the guy that got
Swan caught up in all this.

Well, if Swan didn't
pull him into it first...

I already told you...

Aren't you the guy that said
that assumptions kill?

Well, you're assuming
that Swan's

the same guy he was
back in the 110.

Hey, this is the guy

Reacher chased down
outside of Saropian's house.

Same photo as his ID badge.
Associate security officer.

[O'Donnell] Well, that's great.

Swan, Collins,
that's two New Age

security personnel
somehow involved in this.

Now we got to look into
all these fuckers.

Don't forget Marlo Burns.

She knew she was sending us
right into a buzzsaw

when she gave us
Saropian's address.

So, the entire
company's suspect.

We got over
a thousand employees.

How we gonna tackle that?

One at a time.

[thunder rumbles]

[Marsh] Last night
you asked for

a late night warrant
for some defense firm,

and an hour later, the place
is hit with a smash-and-grab.

Okay, do you know how that
makes this department look?

Like we're five steps
behind everything.

I made those applications
when I had enough for a warrant.

And while you were
waiting for them,

all the evidence
that you would have collected

from that place
is all cleaned out.

And I'll bet you that
it is those tin soldiers

that you were supposed to be
keeping your black eye on.

It wasn't the army brats.
I made it crystal clear to them

not to color outside the lines.

Oh, I see.

You thought,
if you told them nicely,

they'd play along?

You're NYPD.
These are fucking PIs,

for Chrissakes.

Is this too fucking much
for you, Russo?

Lieutenant, lower your voice.

Lower my voice?

You're telling me
to lower my voice

in my own fucking office?

Okay.

Would you please go

and find out what they learned,
all right?

Am I asking you
nicely enough, Russo?

I'll get it handled.

Great.

Close the door.

[♪ Talking Heads:
"Road to Nowhere"]

♪ We're on a road to nowhere...

[Reacher] Who put this song on?

[O'Donnell] This is
the Talking Heads.

You got beef
with the Talking Heads?

We're in New York.
They're a New York band.

They're a Rhode Island band
that moved to New York

and no, I don't have a beef
with them. It's just...

"Road to Nowhere," when we're
sitting here getting nowhere,

seems a little defeatist.

Besides, it's not even
their best song.

Probably prefer "Psycho Killer."

Um, I might have something.

I've been scrubbing
the drives for everything

- Swan-related.
- And?

And I found an anomaly.

He's the assistant director
of security,

so all of his emails
have Langston... his boss...

and a half-dozen
other security personnel

- cc'd on them.
- Makes sense.

I mean, they're a team.
They share information.

[Neagley] But he didn't
share everything.

There are multiple
emails between

Swan and our old friend
Marlo Burns. Just them.

- No one else copied.
- About what?

Music, but not really.

How do you know?

He wrote,

"I was listening to an album
the other day,

thought you might like it.

Jimi Hendrix,
Axis: Bold as Love.

The sixth song is amazing.
Take a listen,

tell me what you think."

Swan hated Hendrix.

Anything with hard guitar.

[Dixon] No Skynyrd, no Hendrix,

no Zeppelin, no Who.
I mean, that was his rule.

[Neagley] He's leaving
everyone else off the email

and saying he loved something
we know he hated.

Could be code.

[O'Donnell] Or it

could be a guy
trying to get laid.

[scoffs]

I mean, I once told a girl
I loved Georgia O'Keeffe.

We say things.

Yeah. It says the sixth track
is called "Little Wing."

Hold on.

I ever tell you
you're smart, Neagley?

Not nearly enough.

Right here. A file on
a federal defense project

called Little Wing, by far
the biggest contract New Age

has ever had.

Four times the size of
anything I've seen anywhere else

in their records.
A nine-figure contract.

People have murdered for less.

[phone vibrates]

Look at this interoffice memo.

Seems a test

for the Little Wing tech was
held for some military brass,

even a senator.

- But what kind of test? And where?
- Doesn't say,

but they do note that
Senator Malcolm Lavoy

assured he would do all he could
to get the congressional votes

to make Little Wing a reality.

And I quote,

"He fully believes in the work
we're doing here at New Age

and will do whatever
it takes to help us."

Lavoy would fully believe
in Snuffleupagus

you pay him enough.

You know this guy?

By reputation.

In D.C., Lavoy's what's known
as a paper bag.

His politics and his vote go

whichever way
the wind's blowing.

He's known to do
some shady shit.

So, if New Age
stands to make a fortune on

a government contract and Lavoy
is his champion in Congress,

it stands to reason New Age
is the wind blowing Lavoy's bag.

That sounds wrong.

So, Swan, who's missing,
maybe dirty, maybe not,

is code-texting Marlo Burns,

who tried to have us killed
about a program supported

by an ethically-compromised
politician.

We need talk to Malcolm Lavoy.

We'll never get close enough
to a senator

to find out what he may
or may not know.

[O'Donnell] Oh,
we don't need to.

Those guys never even know

what they're voting for.

Thousand-page bills,
the legislative record,

they don't read that stuff.

They just vote
the way they're told to.

But his legislative director...

they're the guys who actually
craft and draft the laws,

which is good for us
because those guys

have no security detail.

Okay, but why would
those people talk to us?

I can make it
so they'll be begging

to tell us what they know.

♪ We're on a road to nowhere ♪♪

Something you want to share
with the class?

Look, there's a lot
of powerful people

in D.C. with, uh...
[chuckles]

confidential problems.

Mainly unsavory, but legal,
things they do

in private that they'd rather
not get made public.

My job is to make sure
that their personal business

stays personal.

And the people who know secrets,
they keep those secrets.

So, you blackmail?

I incentivize.

- Sounds sleazy, O'D.
- It's sleazy-adjacent.

Hey, I got
private school tuition

to pay for, okay?

I never break the law.

I simply present the facts
to people and let them know

which way the river's
gonna flow if they choose

the wrong course of action.

You give me ten minutes to make
some phone calls, I'll get

the name of the legislative
director and an Achilles' heel.

- [♪ Slam Allen: "Can't Break Away from That Girl"]
- ♪ Where I went wrong, now ♪

♪ I got caught out there...

Do it.

All right.

- Thank you.
- [phone vibrates]

♪ That good ooh-ee on me...

Reacher, I know you
don't want to talk about Swan...

Swan's clean. If he wasn't,

he wouldn't have disappeared
like the rest of the guys.

But he didn't disappear
like the rest of the guys.

His body was never found
His place wasn't trashed.

He wouldn't just
leave his dog to die.

Not who Swan was.

Maybe.

Or maybe he ran off so fast

because he knew
three pissed-off soldiers

and a kaiju were coming for him.

Dog was collateral damage.

Okay, look,

we don't know what Swan's been
up to since the 110th ended.

Right? I mean,

he could have money problems.

He could have been
taking payoffs.

Would you believe it if somebody

told you I was taking payoffs?

[Neagley] No.

I'm just saying

maybe we don't know some people
as well as we think we do.

There's no way the Tony Swan
I recruited is a part of this.

End of story.

♪ She threw that good ooh-ee ♪♪

- [♪ Pink Velvet: "Dollar Store"]
- ♪ Oh, no...

See the look on their faces
when we whipped out our badges?

They looked like Ralph Terry

when Bill Mazeroski hit his game
seven walk-off homer on him.

[clicks tongue] Oh.

[Lowrey] Mazeroski?
New rule, kid,

you can't reference shit
from more than a decade

- before you were born.
- Go, Bucs.

- [laughs]
- [Sanchez] We're so close

to wrapping up this case
I can taste it.

What do you think
they're gonna give us...

Commendations, promotions?

I like the sound of that.

- [laughs]
- Pump the brakes, Major.

There's still a hell of a lot
of work ahead.

More arrests to be made.
Infrastructure to dismantle.

Whole networks
of cargo planes, jeeps

and helicopters
across three continents.

Just take the W, Gramps.

Don't sass your elders.

Yeah. Take it easy on him, guys.
He hasn't had his nap yet.

[laughing]

Damn. Looks like we got some
Ivory Soap over here, Reacher.

Meaning?

Meaning this shit's
so pure it floats.

How pure?

Ninety-nine percent.

♪ Retribution, and all your...

No wonder kids are
getting hooked on this shit

- left and right.
- [knock on door]

At ease, sports fans,
don't get up.

I hear congratulations
are in order.

[whistles]

That's quite the buy 'n bust.

Kilos of poison

and a handful of scumbag dealers
off the streets

and ratting
on their friends for us.

These are the small fish.

We'll catch the sharks
soon enough.

What did I tell you
when you started this thing?

This case is gonna be a monster.

Unleash the hounds.

Seems you did.

Speaking of monsters,

how's Hortense the Fourth?

[sighs] 20 months,
already into his terrible twos.

Apparently, he's a prodigy.

Good work, everyone. Good work.

[whoops]

[Neagley] Talking
about a prodigy,

you're about to hit
your Bacardi milestone.

151 cases closed.

Don't add it to the stats sheets
till it's done.

People in our profession

are sent overseas
where we're shot at,

bombed, blasted from IEDs.

Then these assholes make
more money selling this shit

than all our pensions combined.

It's fucked up.

All I'm saying.

How much is 48 bricks
worth, anyway?

47. one's missing. There's 47,

not 48.

In an investigation,
details matter.

Brick of heroin's
a hell of a detail.

That's impossible.
I counted 48 at point of sale.

Either you miscounted or they
palmed one back to short you.

[Orozco] No, no, no.
You do shit like that,

- you're not in the game for long.
- [Lowrey] I know

we loaded 48 bricks
into Swan's ride.

Let's check your car.

[Neagley] Nothing.

[Swan] Ah.

Mystery solved.

Must have fallen back there when
I was driving and gotten stuck.

Guess the first round's on me
tonight for that fuckup.

Losing a key of H,

I'd say that's worth two rounds.

What?

Nothing.

I'd actually
forgotten about that,

but it doesn't
support your argument.

Swan could have been
stealing drugs

and just panicked
and gave them back.

Maybe he regretted letting
a chance at big money go by.

Maybe something like
Little Wing came along

and he couldn't pass up
that kind of opportunity again.

That's a lot of maybes.

My gut tells me he's a good man.

Your gut's never been
wrong before?

You know what I think?

You want Swan
to be innocent because

you hired him into the 110th,

and if he's involved
in something like this,

you'd do something stupid like

blame yourself
for our friends' deaths.

Which, like I said,
would be stupid.

Let's just see
what O'Donnell found.

- Mr. Mason?
- [A.M.] Mm.

Dr. Elzogby.

So, I read your intake,

and upon first glance,
I got to say,

got a few questions.

Look, I like a payday
as much as the next guy,

but you're quite
a handsome fella.

Now, I'm not here to tell you

how to live your life, but

are you really certain you
want me to give you a new face?

In a manner of speaking.

Ah... [shushing]

Don't struggle.

You're a doctor,

you know what's happening.

Your trachea is severed.

Blood is entering your lungs,
you're drowning,

your brain
is deprived of oxygen

and your nervous system's
shutting down. So, by now,

you can barely see me

and now you can't hear me

and now...

...you're dead.

I'm just gonna go and have
a word with your secretary.

[phone ringing in distance]

[O'Donnell] Daniel Boyd, Senator
Lavoy's legislative director.

Spoiled dipshit who's never
lifted anything heavier

than a Grey Goose bottle
in his life.

C-plus student who got into
UVA and Georgetown Law

thanks to Mommy and Daddy's
connections. Real party boy.

Two dismissed DWIs in college.

Second year of law school,
gets caught with a sex worker.

Charges mysteriously
disappeared.

Took his 2.3 GPA
straight into private practice.

- [phone vibrates]
- And now he drafts legislation that

decides the fate of the free
world, telling his boss to vote

on whatever benefits the
lobbyists who wooed him best.

So, he was born somewhere
between third and home base

and never heard the word
"consequence."

You gonna pull a few moves from
your sleazy-adjacent playbook?

That's the general idea.

Boyd's gonna be
in Boston tonight

for a fundraiser event
at the Pops.

We'll set him up
like a bowling pin.

[phone vibrates]

[sighs] Yeah.

[Russo] Oh! You pick up
the phone. I thought maybe

you couldn't answer
because you broke your hand

when you drove the fucking car
through the office building.

I didn't get hurt at all.

You think this is funny?

I told you no more cowboy shit.

The car belonged
to one of their employees.

I was returning it.

Listen, wiseass, my boss

almost punched my ticket
because of you.

Well, maybe that's a good thing
'cause members of my unit

are falling from the sky
like raindrops and you haven't

- done shit.
- Hey, hey.

I want everything
you got on New Age.

- You understand?
- Fine.

That's why I answered
the phone this time.

I actually have a reason
to talk to you.

I'm gonna send you
their security team roster.

Run background checks,
see what connections

- these guys have.
- W...

Wait, wait, wait.
What do you think...

I'm here to do
your clerical work?

Yup.

We're busy
heading off to Boston.

What's in Boston?

The symphony.

Goddamn it.

Before we head north, though,

Dixon and I should go
talk to Marlo Burns,

step on her neck a little bit.

Address is online.

Right there is why
I don't have a house.

Yeah, that's the reason.

So, while we do all the work,
what are you guys gonna do?

Oh, we're gonna go
score some drugs.

[♪ Lowpass Lushes:
"Money on the Table"]

♪ We got money on the table ♪

♪ You really want to bet it ♪

♪ You ain't talking 'bout
making moves, yo, forget it ♪

♪ Come on, come on ♪

♪ Come on,
come on ♪

♪ We got money on the table...

Howdy.

♪ You ain't
talking 'bout making moves ♪

♪ Yo, forget it, come on...

Oh, shit.

Five-O! Five-O!

♪ Cutting off the loose ends...

Well, that's just rude.

[grunts]

This just ain't your week.

[grunting]

Find a new line
of work, asshole.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

She's got a kid.

House clear.

Affirmative.

Anything interesting?

I mean, just some expensive
jewelry Marlo left behind.

Left behind?

- Think she bugged out?
- She exited

out the back door
without locking it,

clothes are all over,
clearly packed in a hurry.

Closet and...

cabinets are open.

Well, she took
her toothbrush and toothpaste.

Kidnappers don't care
about oral hygiene.

Jane's a gamer.

Got good taste.

Uh, you might want
to come and see this.

Who the hell goes on the lam

and leaves
their cash stash behind?

Apparently, Marlo Burns.

[rental agent] So, to confirm,

you've reserved
a Cadillac Escalade,

to be returned within
three days' time to JFK Airport.

[A.M.] That's correct.

[rental agent] And to thank you
for your loyalty,

we've upgraded you
to a SiriusXM Platinum

listening experience,
free of charge.

Wonderful.

[rental agent] Thank you
for your business, Dr. Elzogby.

Have a wonderful drive.

Would you like this?

Do you know why
I love comic books so much?

Oh.

Well, look at you.

Don't you feel more civilized
now, Ms. Doolittle?

Wait, where are the clothes
you were wearing?

Garbage.

Garbage, why?

I'm already carrying boots.

If I had any more clothes,
pretty soon I'd need a suitcase.

I got a suitcase,
I need a house to keep it in.

Then I need a car
for the driveway.

Before you know it, I'm
filling out all kinds of forms.

So, a spare shirt's just too
much of an attachment for you?

Anyone ever diagnose you
as a sociopath?

Diagnosed?

No.

So...

what do you make
of Marlo Burns taking off

with just some clothes and
leaving all that cash behind?

Not sure yet.

Well, she did take
her toothbrush.

[gasps] She could be
your soul mate.

Shut up.

Not one word.

Holy shit.

That's two words. Another one,

and I'll shove this kitten heel
right up your ass.

I'm just saying you look nice.
You both look nice.

We look like the assholes
on top of a wedding cake.

Here, I'll pay you back in
a month when my pension lands.

Yeah, your pension
won't cover that suit.

Or the hotel room.
Or the plane ticket.

I'll pay you back in two months.

Okay.

Everyone ready?

Let's go listen
to some boring-ass music.

Okay.

And, uh, close your mouth, boss.

You're catching flies.

[orchestra warming up]

Excuse me.

Thank you. Pardon me.

- Excuse me.
- Of course.

Okay.

Oh, no, it's...

- Oh. [laughs]
- Apologies.

Not at all.

I'm-I'm sorry.
I'm a little turned around.

I don't know if I have orchestra
seats or floor box seats,

and I actually don't even know
what that means.

- Okay, well...
- Do you mind?

Let's just see what we got here.

Hmm, the mezzanine,
that's where you are, but...

- Okay.
- [sharp inhale] that just simply won't cut it.

You see, you want
to be down here.

The sound,
it just wraps around you

- like a fleece.
- [chuckles]

How about I swap your ticket
with my aide when he arrives?

[short chuckle]
Wouldn't he mind?

Well, not if he wants
to keep his job.

Please, take a seat.

Thank you.

In the bag.

We go 13/14s.

8/13s.

Over seven months,
six-day working weeks.

Maybe a time sheet
clocking hours?

Maybe a ratings scale?

I don't know.

- Top you off?
- Yeah.

Yes, ma'am.

And when you get the chance,
could you bring me the bill?

This guy doesn't have any money.

[waitress] Sure.
Let me tally it up for you.

[O'Donnell] Great. [sniffles]

- It's a tally.
- What?

Here. 13/14ths.

Something happened 13 times

when it was supposed
to happen 14 times.

Uh, here, 11 out of 13.
Eight out of 11.

[phone vibrating]

Hey, bud, I just...

Okay, what did I tell you?

Hands are for helping,
not hitting.

Apologize to your brother.

Share your Legos, okay?

I love you.
To the moon and back.

Okay, bye for now.

[clears throat] Sorry,
I don't know why I gave them

my burner number, uh...

Well, you look happy.

I did the math.

There were 2,197 total events,
whatever they were.

But they only succeeded
1,547 times.

But that's not
the interesting number.

Look how many times
they didn't get

the outcome they wanted.

2,197 minus 1,547.

Six hundred and fifty.
Holy shit.

Six fifty at 100K each.

It's all connected somehow.

So...

So... hands are for helping?

[laughs]

You have brass knuckles
in your pocket.

I got a PAW Patrol Band-Aid
and some playground sand, too.

Look, they call nonstop
when I'm not there.

And when I am there,
it's, you know,

7:00 a.m. weekend soccer games,
teacher conferences,

scheduled sex with the wife.

I am no longer my own man.

And you wouldn't trade it
for anything in the world.

Not for $65 million.

You are a changed man,
O'Donnell.

Yep. Maybe you should
give it a go, huh?

Buy some land, start a family.

You'd be the scariest guy
at PTA,

but you'd be a good dad.

- If I had land, I'd get four or five...
- Four or five dogs.

You'd get four or five dogs,
no woman?

Not even Dixon?

- She's a friend.
- [laughs]

Okay.

Whatever you say.

That was some dress, though.

Hell of a dress.

[phone vibrates]

From Neagley. It's intermission.

Dixon and Boyd are leaving now.

[O'Donnell] There they are.

That's one hell of a dress.

My car's around the corner.
Does that work?

I'll follow anywhere
you lead, gorgeous.

- Well, let's go party.
- Okay.

[Reacher] Look at her.

- Boyd didn't stand a chance.
- [phone vibrates]

Neagley again.

- She says my guy's in place.
- Mm.

Hey, this friend of yours.

He's gonna come through
for us, yeah?

If he was in the Army,

I'd have asked him
to join the 110th.

- [♪ MATS: "When I Turn it On"]
- ♪ When I turn it on ♪

♪ You'll know the move...

Come here. Mmm...

- Oh, you're all riled up.
- Well, what can I say?

Classical music
gets my motor running.

Yeah, well, drop it to second,
Speed Racer.

- Let's have a little primer first.
- Oh...

You're not messing around.
All right.

- There we go. Ooh. Ooh.
- Yeah. Yes.

Okay, hold this. Hold...

hold that.

[laughs]

I never know how thick or thin
to make these things.

- Hey, allow me.
- Thank you.

♪ And you like it...

[Boyd] Mm. Uh...

Okay. [sniffs]
Ladies first?

Oh, no, you did the work,
you get the reward.

If you insist.

♪ And you like it...

Ooh!

♪ Don't you try to ♪♪

- Shit.
- Shit. - [music stops]

- Just-just play it cool, just play it cool.
- Shit.

Just play it cool.

[Finlay] Sir, you're gonna want

to put the drugs away
and step out of the car.

- They're not my drugs.
- Which drugs...

the ones on your mirror
or up your nose?

You think I own a makeup
mirror? They're all hers.

Not what she's saying,
and she wasn't holding it.

And she already offered up
blood and urine.

Do you want to offer up
blood and urine?

Listen, Officer, I hate
putting it this way, but...

do you know who I am?

I do, actually, Mr. Boyd.

And I know that woman in the car
wasn't Mrs. Boyd.

And I have a special distaste
for people

who don't appreciate
the sanctity of marriage.

I also know you work
for Senator Lavoy.

But when I ran your name
in the system,

it set off bells and whistles
at the local FBI office.

They sent a couple of their boys
down here just to talk to you.

And it seems they don't care
who your boss is.

[Boyd] Come on.

Special Agent Jack Margrave.

This is Special Agent Blake.

Lieutenant Oscar Finlay.

Yeah, I'm not talking
without my lawyer.

You want to lawyer up?

- Fine. Call them.
- I will.

And they'll have me
out of here within the hour.

Hmm. You know...

...that's just
gonna be too late.

Because by the time
they get here,

we'll already have the story

of a senator's
legislative director

in the wrong woman's car

with a snout
full of booger sugar

on the front page
of the Globe and the Herald.

You see,

this is not college
or law school, son.

You're not some spoiled rich kid
barely rocking a C-plus.

You're a Beltway man now.

Kind of guy that people

enjoy knocking down
a peg or two.

So these charges,

they're not just gonna
get swept under the rug.

We're not gonna let 'em.

- Want to know why?
- Okay. Why?

'Cause we don't like you.

- [tongue clicks]
- I don't even know

- why you're here.
- [Reacher] We're here

'cause we want to know
everything there is to know

about Little Wing.

- I should probably...
- Yeah, you should.

Yeah. I'm gonna
call Mr. Boyd's wife.

Eh, she's probably worried
about him over in D.C.

Worried sick.

You know, happy wife,
happy life, huh?

- [line ringing]
- Okay. Fine.

- [woman] Hello?
- Wrong number.

- Talk.
- It's not that big of a deal.

Little Wing is just a code name.

- For what?
- For a new technology

currently in development.

Some incredible
anti-missile software

originally developed
to protect commercial aircraft,

but a certain aeronautics
company approached us.

Let me guess... New Age?

[Boyd] That's right. New Age.

They found the software
could be tweaked.

It could be used in missiles
and not just against them.

It could be scaled down
and installed

in portable shoulder-fired
surface-to-air weaponry.

The software allows missiles

to defeat all known
countermeasures.

- How?
- That's a question

for a nerd in a lab coat, man.

Okay? All I know is that
missiles shot from the ground

completely bypass their target,

making pilots believe
the threat has passed,

and then they recalibrate,
turn around,

zero back in on the aircraft
and reattack.

It's death from above
and there is no way to avoid it.

You fire, you hit your target.

Period.

And what's Senator Lavoy's
involvement?

Well, the project required an
appropriation bill, all right?

You want to get one passed?

You're looking at years
of bureaucratic bullshit

all thanks to some arcane laws
on modifying civilian tech.

But Lavoy knew Little Wing
would slingshot

our military into the future,
so if we just sat on our hands,

waiting for it to go through
the proper channels,

it would never happen.

So I'm assuming Lavoy
didn't clear up the red tape

in the most reputable manner?

I helped bury the proposal
in a thousand-page statute

while Lavoy shook hands
and drummed up votes.

No one even knew
it was in there.

And he did this out of
the goodness of his heart?

To protect democracy?

No fat envelopes slipped inside
newspapers on park benches?

Grow the fuck up, okay?

It's D.C.
It's how shit gets done.

Besides, Lavoy knew Little Wing
would save lives.

I mean... [chortles]

everyone made fun of
the Star Wars defense program,

but, hey, look at where
we are now.

Everyone's trying to shoot
projectiles out of the air.

Little Wing can knock
anything out of the sky.

Anything?
Like commercial aircraft?

You fire, you hit the target.
You said so yourself.

Yeah, but it's our tech.
We have it.

Nobody else can
get their hands on it.

Nothing like you're thinking
is going to happen.

New Age is incredibly secure.
Both of their facilities

- implement state-of-the-art...
- Both facilities?

- What do you mean?
- New Age has two bases.

Software made in New York,

hardware at
a manufacturing plant in Denver.

- What else can you tell us?
- Nothing.

That's all I know. I swear.

Hey, Lavoy and me...
we-we cut some corners,

we did some stuff
we should not have done,

but it was all to get
a defense bill passed,

protect the country.

How'd that work out?

Hey, excuse me.

So, are the drug charges
getting dropped or what?

I don't know. I'm not a cop.

Heck of a surprise
getting a call from you.

Hell of a surprise hearing
you're wearing the badge again.

Lieutenant, no less.

Yeah, well,
retirement didn't suit me.

Speaking of suits, see
you're still sporting the tweed.

Reliable as ever, Finlay.

Speak for yourself.

What was it you told me
when we first met...

trouble always seems
to find you?

You kill a whole lot of people?

Here and there.

- You need my help?
- Already gave it.

You still spinning
that wedding ring?

Here and there.
But feeling better every day.

- And the dog?
- Jack eats too much.

Just like his namesake.

[Neagley] Today, boss.

Car's running,
and if I don't get out

of this straitjacket soon,
things are gonna get ugly.

Neagley?

Didn't recognize you.
Looking good.

Mind your business,
elbow patches.

Hey, you heard the lady.

If I don't have her in jeans
in 20 minutes,

I'm done for.

See you around, Reacher.

See you around, Finlay.

So, Little Wing
could be our next 9/11.

- What are our directives?
- You and Dixon go to Denver.

The Little Wing software
is useless

without the missile hardware,
and that's where it's made.

Maybe you can gum up the works,

keep the missiles
out of the wrong hands.

O'Donnell and I
will head down to D.C.

Want to swing by Homeland,
see what they know about A.M.

If taking out airplanes
is his M.O.,

they might have
some intel on him.

[O'Donnell] How do you figure
we're gonna do that?

You think we're just gonna
knock on the door

and say, "Can the DoD
come out and play?"

My brother worked for Homeland.

His contacts can help us.

Oh, no shit.
How's Joe doing these days?

He's dead.

I'm starving. We should eat.

[exhales] Dibs on the bathroom.

- I need to get changed.
- [motorcycles approaching]

Yeah? You gonna
throw it in the garbage

like our sociopathic friend
here?

Oh, why, you want to borrow it?

Oh, yeah. I got the ass for it.

[biker] Hate to ruin prom night,

but hand over your guns.

What makes you think
we have guns?

We were told
you'd be packing, Reacher.

[Reacher] They also tell you

you'd die tonight?

I'll die? That's funny.

No guns, so no noise.

[biker] They said
you were smart.

I'm gonna cut you, gut you

and leave you...

[grunting]

[tires screech]

[grunting]

[screams]

Aah!

[screaming]

[engine revs]

Everyone okay?

Yeah. It'll heal.

[O'Donnell groans]

Never better.

Fucked up my shoes,
but I'm fine.

- [Langston] Yeah.
- Before you ask if it's done,

it is, just not in the way
you hoped for.

You're causing a very complex
operation a lot of problems.

Sixty-five million dollars
worth, Langston?

Assume that's who
I'm talking to.

Head of security?

Head of this whole thing?

Maybe we've been approaching
this the wrong way, Mr. Reacher.

Just Reacher.

Okay, Reacher.
Why don't we make a deal?

I have the means to give you
anything you could ask for.

What is it that you want?

I want to throw you
out of a helicopter.

- ♪ Psycho killer ♪
- [♪ Talking Heads: "Psycho Killer"]

♪ Que est-ce que c'est? ♪

♪ Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa ♪

♪ Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,
better ♪

♪ Run, run, run, run ♪

♪ Run, run, run away ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Psycho killer,
qu'est-ce que c'est? ♪

♪ Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,
fa, fa, fa, fa, better ♪

♪ Run, run, run, run ♪

♪ Run, run, run away ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Ay, yai, yai, yai,
yai, yai, ooh ♪

♪ You start a conversation,
you can't even finish it ♪

♪ You're talking a lot ♪

♪ But you're not
saying anything ♪

♪ When I have nothing to say,
my lips are sealed ♪

♪ Say something once,
why say it again? ♪

♪ Psycho killer ♪

♪ Qu'est-ce que c'est ♪

♪ Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,
fa, fa, fa, fa, better ♪

♪ Run, run, run, run ♪

♪ Run, run, run away ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Psycho killer ♪

♪ Qu'est-ce que c'est? ♪

♪ Fa, fa, fa, fa, fa, fa,
fa, fa, fa, fa, better ♪

♪ Run, run, run, run ♪

♪ Run, run, run away ♪

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ Ay, yai, yai, yai, yai, yai ♪

♪ Ooh ♪♪