All language subtitles for Blue.Bloods.S14E07.On.the.Ropes.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb[TGx]

Room 1.

Banging into everything!
I'm in pain here!

Bang him again.

Let's go.

Far as you go, folks.

Police business.

Ours comes first.

That guy kidnapped
a 16-year-old girl.

Don't doubt it, but
paramedics radioed

he has severe leg lacerations.

Self-inflicted. He got it trying

to escape over a spiked fence...

Sorry. Even bad guys aren't
allowed to bleed out.

I'll let you know when
you can question him.

Grab us a coffee?

Yeah, I'll meet you
in the waiting room.

Danny Reagan?

Desiree?

Diaz. Yeah, Linda's friend.

Yeah, and she was way
more than a friend.

I mean, Linda took
me under her wing,

taught me everything I know.

Same.

God, I still miss her so much.

Same again.

But you're okay? And your boys?

Yeah, we're doing
good. Thank you.

Hey, Danny, can I
talk to you a second?

Yeah. What's up?

Yeah, just... over
here? Yeah. Sure.

What's going on?

I need your help.

Okay. With what?

There's something
weird going on.

Like, patients are dying.

Well, it's a
hospital. No, I mean,

there are people coming in
with fairly simple stuff.

Right? Like an asthma attack,

UTI, but after
they get admitted,

they end up dead.

Okay, what are you
telling me? I'm saying...

WOMAN Code Blue, ICU 212.

Code Blue, ICU 212.

Damn it.

I'm sorry. I-I have to go.

Hey, Anthony. Harry,

gonna need all your tricks.

I scuffed these up big-time.

Craig, how are you today?

Seen better days.

Starting a little early, huh?

Might as well enjoy myself.

We're closing up shop for good.

What? Why?

Stoop out front is why.

Can't get a wheelchair up it.

So? Just go buy some plywood.

Also, the bathroom's too small,

and the back stairs
are too steep.

All according to
some ambulance chaser

who came, saying he's
gonna sue me for $50,000

if I don't renovate immediately.

How's that fair?

I mean, your shop's a
neighborhood institution.

You ever hear of the Americans
with Disabilities Act?

Of course, but it's not meant
to screw over small businesses.

Kind of like Q-tips
aren't for your ears.

Guess we won't be sponsoring

the Reade Street
Red-Leggers anymore.

Harry, you got to find a lawyer.

Uh, fight this thing.

And run up more bills, along
with rent already sky-high

and Craig saying he
wants to move on?

It's over, Anthony.

Come and get these
before we close up shop

for good on Monday, no charge.

Yeah.

Thanks, huh?

2-9 Precinct. Captain
McNichols. How may I help you?

JAMIE Captain Jamie Reagan. Do
you by any chance know what time

I'm scheduled to make my
prisoner transport today?

Ah. Mr. Type A forgot something.

Let me guess. You were too
busy polishing your boots?

I know. My bad.

Okay, um, FIO transport
of Connor Pruitt departing

lockup for the D.A.'s
office at 11:00 a.m.

Okay, Reagan, for ten bucks,

I won't tell anybod...

Can't take a joke?

Oh. Sorry I'm late.

Wow.

Line of duty, or
plate-glass window?

Neither. Got it boxing.

I think you're supposed to box
with your fists, not your face.

Ha! That's a funny one, Abigail.

Those speed bags
do pack a punch.

Wow. Good one.

I'm in training for
the smoker coming up.

You? Yeah.

Fighting someone else?

Big crowds, bragging
rights, all the marbles.

Yeah, and, uh,
who's your opponent?

Sergeant out of 2-1,
Ray Russo. Loudmouth.

I'm gonna shut that mouth up.

And how old is Russo?

I don't know. 40 maybe.

Come on. Smokers are a
department-sanctioned,

time-honored tradition.

Yeah, for young cops
to prove their mettle.

What? You don't think
I can take this hump?

Uh, that's not the
point. The point is,

I'm not sure it's the right look

for a 60-something
representative

of this office, win or lose.

Oh. Ageism? That's
a thing, you know.

Yeah, but not my thing.

So you're just gonna
put your foot down?

I am simply

expressing my opinion.

Great. Noted.

Moving on.

Servers here at One PP
went off-line last night

for a half hour.

IT is looking into the how

and the why.

I don't know about
this, Sergeant Reagan.

Yes, you do, Pruitt. Just relax.

And I'll get a reduced sentence
and witness protection?

It's not my place
to make promises.

The D.A. can relocate you, but
only the Feds do protection.

Then there's no
way I can do this.

These are bad people.

That's why you have to
give up their names.

You do that, and they
go to prison forever.

Okay?

King, get us out of here!

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

Oh! King?

King, you all right?

Get down. Get down!

Forget him. Let's
get out of here!

Pruitt? Pruitt? Yeah.

They're-they're trying to kill
me. They're coming for me.

Not anymore.

Hey, King, you okay?
Yeah, I'm good.

I'm good.

10-13. Shots fired.

Corner of 46 and
Adams. Two males

fled north on Adams
in a maroon van.

Central, I'll need a bus
to this location forthwith

for an injured officer.

Mom?

Mom!

Kidnapper behind bars,
girl's back with her folks.

I call it a win. Big win.

Now we should head over
to Saint Vic's. Why?

To check out what that nurse
Desiree Diaz was talking about.

That girl you ran into for
all of, what, 30 seconds?

She said people were being
killed at the hospital.

Sounded credible. We
should check it out.

Is she credible?

Don't know.

I mean, she's been to
my house a few times

on the holidays with Linda.

They were close.

From what I remember, she
makes a great key lime pie.

So, you don't really know her?

No, but I don't think she
has any reason to lie.

Reagan, we have

a boatload of cases
waiting for us,

and Desiree didn't
even give you a name

of a patient to go
on, so... How about.

Hernando or Maddy or Ruth?

I redacted their last names
and personal information,

and I made copies

of their chart.

All you have to see is
how they supposedly died.

Supposedly.

My partner,
Detective Maria Baez,

and next, she's
going to say to us

that, technically, we
cannot look at those.

Danny, I've been worried sick.

And then you show
up at Saint Vic's?

It's no coincidence. Yeah...
could've been a coincidence.

Please. Just do this?

But you didn't
get those from me.

Didn't get them at all.

Take a look?

Hey, Reagan.

It's good to see you back
on your feet so quickly.

Thanks, boss. Even
better that King's

gonna make a full recovery.

Yeah, you see what happens
when you forget your schedule?

What do you mean?

Earlier, when you called
me about the transport.

I, uh, I never called you.

What'd you, you get a
concussion or something?

Yeah, y-you called me.

Damn it, I should've
seen this coming.

Seen what coming?
My prisoner's been

laundering money for
a group that uses A.I.

to mimic voices so
they can scam people.

They faked your voice with me?

And they ambushed
us to get Pruitt.

Oh, God, I, uh...

I almost got you killed.

No, it's not your fault.
These guys are damn good.

Problem is, now
Pruitt's so clammed up

that he doesn't want to
I.D. who these guys are.

How is this guy
still in business?

Um, I'd love to answer once I
know what we're talking about.

Eh, some asshat attorney named
Wesley Timmons is filing suits

against small businesses
all around the city

using the Americans
with Disabilities Act.

Well, I think we might
define "asshat" differently.

No, you don't get it. He's
demanding a huge settlement

or he'll drown them
in procedural fees.

Well, I think I understand
the shape of things just fine.

Okay, so let's drop the hammer.

I can't, if he's applying
the law as written.

He's abusing the A.D.A. to
fill his own pockets, Erin.

Okay, so how did you come

to understand this
in the first place?

Okay, you know the
kooky lady at your gym?

The one who knows more
about your personal life

than the actual people
in your personal life?

Pilates Pam? Yeah.

Well, the guy getting
screwed here, Harry,

he's my Pilates Pam.

You know, like someone
you don't really know,

but they stand out
with a smiling face

in this city full of strangers?

I also got the falafel
guy on Church Street.

Odds are Timmons
comes after them next.

I feel bad, I do,
but we both know that

minor crimes lose out
when we've got robberies

and-and murders
to take to trial.

So we're supposed to
just ignore this jerk?

Odds are we're gonna have to.

Yeah? How?

He's everywhere.

Sergeant Russo's here.

Okay, let's have him.

Commissioner.

Please have a seat.

So, about this
fight at the smoker.

He told you?

I'm the police commissioner.
I know everything.

Well, if that were true,
sir, how'd you ever hire him?

It's okay. You can speak freely.

Look, I know he's
one of your people,

okay, but to guys like
me, guys in the street,

Sid Gormley is a kiss-up,
kick-down kind of cop.

I've never heard that.

It's been that way
since me and him

first rode together way back.

Showed up with an attitude,
and it's only gotten worse.

Throwing shade,
blocking transfers,

keeping me from
getting promoted.

So you're going to
settle this like men.

Being since the department's
never gonna step up,

might as well get
my own licks in.

On a guy with two
decades on you.

So you're running interference?

I look after
everyone's interest.

All due respect, sir,

you know, I hear that a lot.

That this job is all about
watching each other's backs.

The only reason
I'm still standing

after 20-plus years is
'cause I watch my own.

Mystery deaths?

Yeah. And we figured who
better to clear this up with

than the hospital administrator?

It just sounds so dramatic.

It probably was for the patients
expecting a hospital stay,

not a trip to the morgue.

And you think this
is happening why?

We-we received a tip. Patients?

Family member? Employee?

That's confidential. Good.

So you understand the concept,

which goes double for me,
you know, HIPPA and all.

Well, if you won't explain
why patients are dying,

maybe you can explain why
Saint Victor's performs

the fewest autopsies per
patient death in the city.

So now you're questioning
the judgment of

my Harvard-educated pathologist?

Only their disinterest
in this situation.

Unless, of course, it's you

who ordered them to not
perform the autopsies.

Our low rate of autopsies

has nothing to do
with disinterest,

and everything to do
with the fact that

this hospital is overcrowded

at the same time it's
understaffed and underfunded.

Which means I have much
more important things

to attend to.

Any more questions
can be directed to

our in-house counsel,

whose office is right
down there on your right.

Guess that's the
end of the road?

No. Let's get a second opinion.

Wesley Timmons.

Hi. Have we met?

No, you'd remember.

I'm Detective
Anthony Abetemarco.

How can I help
you? Tell me about

Harry & Son's repair shop.

What's to tell?

Mr. Makris would rather
close his business

than comply with the law.

I'd say it's you
screwing the vulnerable.

By helping disabled people?

By getting rich off the backs
of honest business owners.

Your viewpoint, not mine.

Any decent person's viewpoint.

Decency is defined by a
jury, where I'm concerned.

It's that easy, huh?

Pawn the morality
off on other people

so you keep your pockets full?

You're a son of a bitch, Wesley.

Do I need to remind
you of the consequences

for assault in New York State...

Detective?

Have a good night.

Okay, off with the
laptop, on with the TV.

The Rangers are
tied in the third.

I don't need to be
distracted. I'm fine.

Physically, yes.

It's just I'm so far
behind the eight ball

with these guys that
Pruitt was gonna spill on.

The A.I. scammers?

Yeah. They pose as people's
grandkids, they dupe 'em

into getting their bank info,

and then clean out
their accounts.

It's the 14th case and counting.

That's horrible.

Any leads from today?

Well, the van was
reported stolen,

the guns were defaced
and untraceable.

So with Pruitt too
scared to testify,

my case is dead in the water.

Hey, hey.

I have full faith in you.

And I used to.

But with A.I., deepfakes,
and whatever's coming next,

it's like we're
going at these guys

with rocks and spears.

That's weird.

She never calls after hours.

Pick it up on speaker.

Captain, what's up?

Janko, sorry to call so late.

I'm still at the precinct
updating personnel forms

and need your
mother's maiden name.

No problem. It's Hickey.

Lying to your supervisor.

We both know Lena Janko's
maiden name is Hobbs.

Who is this?

And Hobbs is also the answer

to your security question that
resets your email password.

Not very smart, Officer.

Hey, I stopped you
guys this morning,

and I will find
you. You hear me?

Tread lightly.

Both of you.

We know where you live.

Why do I get the feeling
I'm not even supposed to be

looking at any of this?

You're not looking at anything.

In fact, we're not even here.

So could you tell us
what you don't see?

Pulmonary embolism.

Fatal hypoglycemic seizure.

Idiopathic cerebral embolism.

All very suspicious.

I didn't say that.

You didn't not say it.

This is just the
tip of the iceberg.

Unless it's not.

So, what do you say,
Doc, yay or nay?

Officially, these
are routine deaths

with no overt signs of foul play

or medical malpractice.

Unofficially? Unofficially,

administering an
insulin overdose,

or injecting an air bubble
to induce an embolism

is the perfect way
to mask a murder.

Hmm.

But who would have that skill?

Doctor, nurse, P.A., C.N.A.

So you agree, we have
an angel of death

on our hands.

Not without
performing autopsies.

And I don't see enough here

to get a warrant
for exhumations.

Okay. Thank you. Dead end.

Unless we find another way.

I don't want to go
back to the hospital

and risk putting Desiree in
danger, it's not worth it.

You know, I could go see Scott.

Who's Scott?

An ophthalmic surgeon
at Saint Vic's

that I saw for a
consult a few years ago.

He talked me out
of getting LASIK,

but into a weekend
with him in Montauk.

Mm. Silver-tongued devil.

Who may be able to
sweet-talk someone there

into coughing up
a staff schedule

showing who was on duty
when your deaths occurred.

Well, in that case, we will not

leave this with you.

You're the best.

I am, huh?

Anthony.

Can I at least get to my office

before you jump down my throat?

I told you not to
pursue Wesley Timmons.

Aw, geez. What,
that mope called you

'cause I said some
mean words to him?

Yeah, right after he
got out of surgery

because he was beaten
within an inch of his life.

What? And now there's
an investigator

coming down from
the A.G.'s office

to interview you.

Me? What for?

They have you on camera
threatening Timmons

a few hours before he
was rushed to the ER.

Erin, I didn't touch
the guy. You know me.

Anthony, I advise you to
have counsel with you.

Except I don't need one,
'cause I didn't do nothin'.

Make this make sense, Pruitt.

I don't have
anything else to say.

They got my name, my
voice, my phone number,

my wife's phone number.

And none of that's online.

Somehow your guys were
able to get all of it.

What don't you understand?

These guys are pros.

All the more reason for
you to give up their names.

After yesterday?

My arm's broken in three places.

Then you're gonna be
in prison until 2045.

Better that than dead.

And the 20,

50 more innocent families?

They're gonna lose everything.
You're okay with that?

Sergeant Reagan, you
gave me your word,

and then you screwed up.

That was the end
of this. I'm sorry.

Whoever this Scott guy is,
Megan's friend, he delivered.

Still, though, how nuts
does someone have to be

to kill people laid
up in the hospital?

I don't know.

And why target
people overweight,

over 60 and diabetic?

Which Saint Vic's is full of.

Throw in hectic wards
and a little oversight...

And you got yourself a
happy hunting ground. Uh-oh.

Uh-oh what?

See if you have a male
nurse listed there:

Arnold Vale.

Oh, Vale, Vale, yeah.

Vale. Worked nights the
same ward as our victims.

And arrived three days
before our first victim died.

Well, that doesn't
do him any favors.

Neither does his work history,
which has him bouncing around

from hospitals to nursing homes

in Connecticut and Maryland,

yet has not a single
reference listed.

You think he killed as he went?

I don't know, but
we better find out

before he moves on again.

I don't know.

Sounds like it might
be one hell of a fight.

Well, if it were a
couple of rookies

blowing off steam,
I'd be all for it.

You do know it's
things like this,

are why a lot of
guys come on the job

and stay on the job, right?

Things like beating
each other up? Yeah.

The tribal customs, the lore.

The pride of being
a part of all this.

The ball-busting,
the one-upping?

Old men acting like
they're young again.

That, too.

So back off.

Pop!

Sid could drop dead.

He will drop dead.

We all will.

You're just being difficult.

Me? Yeah.

Okay, what if
there's a snowstorm?

Are you somehow
gonna arrange for Sid

not to shovel his own walk and
give himself a heart attack?

Remember your Aunt Corrine?

Found a cloud on any sunny day.

Yeah, well, you
sound just like her.

Pop, I'm trying
to help a friend.

The way you were helping me
when you took my car keys away?

That was ten years ago,

and you know it was
the right thing to do.

Yeah, well, the world has
finally caught up to you.

Meaning?

Meaning everyone's
sticking their nose

into everyone's
business these days.

Eat this, don't eat that.

Think this, don't think that.

This scotch we're drinking,

is it good?

It's great.

Today's New York Times says

it may lead you
to an early grave.

So if I keep my mouth shut...

Then you won't be the guy

no one asked in the first place.

Mm?

This is you in Timmons' face.

And here's you

kicking his ass.

You're joking, right?

I assure you I'm not.

I haven't been that thin
since the seventh grade.

So you paid someone to beat him
up or you cashed in a favor.

Or maybe I gave him a hot shot

of uranium 235 with
a poisoned umbrella.

That supposed to be funny?

Hilarious.

Just like the idea that
I went after the guy.

Let's go back to this argument
between you and Mr. Timmons...

Let's not, 'cause you're
treating me like any other perp.

I don't need to be
reminded of your rank

and reputation, Detective.

When you're accusing me of
something crazy like this,

context matters.

My context is footage of you

in the man's face
on the same night.

Wesley Timmons terrorizes
a dozen people,

and you're going
after one of your own?

The whole world
is in the crapper.

What's next, pizza
gets outlawed?

This isn't about the world.

This is about one
single brutal assault.

Get this straight.

That's the last time
I saw that jerk.

And that's the guy you need
to find, and when you do,

I want to shake his hand.

Something to add, Abetemarco?

Not a thing.

So A.I. scans the Internet,
uh, like a trillion times over,

and then creates an algorithm

to replicate and synthesize
all the information it finds.

How about you explain
it in English?

Uh, English, uh

anything you can do,
A.I. can do better.

Can't make dumplings
like these though.

That's right. Not yet.

Well, I prefer

to rely on good old
regular intelligence.

Increasingly in short supply.

Precisely.

And I would prefer if
we change the topic.

To what?

To something I could

halfway understand.

Why don't you pick one, Gramps?

How about that venerable old

NYPD tradition, the smoker?

Okay.

Francis, you can start.

Why me?

Why not you?

Yeah, why not, Dad?

Yeah, come on,
Grandpa. Yeah, yeah.

Okay, okay.

Uh, my rookie year,

Sergeant Gio Danza beat
the crap out of me.

But Francis gave
as good as he got.

And it ended in a split.

Oh, now you're proud. You
yelled at me at the time.

Yeah, well, I had 50
bucks on the other guy.

I seem to remember
Danny had a fight

with, uh, Gordy
McElroy one time.

Yeah, "fight" is a
very generous term.

Uh, I believe you're
familiar with the expression,

"you should see the other guy"?

Yeah, unfortunately,
I was the other guy.

No way. Yeah.

And he walked around
with oversized shades

for about two weeks.

Well, at least I looked cool.

Well, to be fair, McElroy
played semipro hockey, so...

That's right. It wasn't
even a fair fight.

Yeah.

What about Uncle Joe?

Uh, fought two, won two.

First one was against
a mean old lifer

named Joe Reynolds.
First round knockout.

And guess who the
second one was.

It was me, okay? It was,

it was a charity fight,

and I didn't want to hurt
my own brother, so...

Oh, yeah, that was it.

You could've at least
landed one punch, though.

I wish I hit him one time now!

Okay?

Well...

I think I should point
out that there is

one other undefeated champion

at the table.

Yeah, let me guess, Pops.

No, I never fought one.

Finally a Reagan with sense.

Really, Pop?

I'm a lover, not a fighter.

Stop him before he reminds us

of his nudist beach days.

Wait, so who's the
champ among us?

What?

First round knockout 2014.

Wow. Yeah, I had a
smooth right hook.

Holy crap. Mm-hmm.

Thank God I didn't
fight you, too.

I'd like to see that.
No, you wouldn't.

How do I not know about this?

Honey, I can't tell
you all my secrets.

So here's to the champ.

Iron Jaw Janko.

May we all stay
off her bad side.

I told you, it's not me.

This angel of death. Mm-hmm.

Says the guy who
flew out the window

the moment my partner
knocked on the door.

I didn't know you were cops.

She announced herself
loud and clear.

I mean, real cops.

Last month, two guys
beat down my door

saying the same thing before
they kicked the crap out of me.

And why'd they do that?

I got a gambling problem.

Along with your other problem

of killing innocent
patients in the hospital?

I didn't kill anyone.

You know how this is gonna
sound to a jury, right?

Male nurse,

unmarried, unpopular
with the women,

nothing going on in his life.

It doesn't make me a monster.

He moves from state
to state, job to job

looking for new victims to
make himself feel powerful.

And important.

Why don't you just admit it?

Dead end.

He swapped out on most of the
shifts our patients died on.

Maybe he doctored the records.

And no suspicious deaths on
any of his former jobs, either.

He was fired for missing shifts

to go gambling.

And neighbors confirmed
a couple of knee-breakers

busted in on him last month.

Okay.

So

We good? I can go now?

Wait a minute.

You said you got into nursing
to help people, right?

Yeah, of course.

Okay.

Maybe you can help those
people by helping us.

Captain, Captain,
just hear me out.

I don't work in intel, Reagan.

Okay, which is why
you're perfect for this.

Connor Pruitt has met
everyone up in FIO.

But he doesn't know you.

I'm listening.

Okay.

He's actually also never met

any of his co-conspirators
face-to-face.

He's their money man, but he's

only dealt with
them over the phone.

Oh, COVID even had the bad
guys working from home, huh?

Yeah, something like
that, but he's got names,

he's got their addresses,
everything on an encrypted file.

But if he thought someone else
was gonna give up that info...

He might think that his
leverage had vanished.

And he'd be thrown
to the wolves.

Oh, Reagan.

I have already screwed
up your case enough.

What, that's why
you're hesitating?

It's embarrassing.

Come on, I screw
up all the time.

Just ask Eddie,
she keeps a list.

O-Okay.

What do you need me to do?

Come on, Sid, pop that jab!

There you go.

There you go.

Nice.

Give me a minute, Terry.

How old were you here?

Oh, 23.

Must've been a hell of a night.

Yeah.

But I'm no longer a
spring chicken, ain't I?

Check your driver's license.

Mine's even worse.

Boss, I still want to do this.

Full disclosure.

I talked to the department
surgeon this morning.

So you could find a
medical reason to DQ me?

Well, it turns out,
you're kind of okay.

Really?

Yeah, but Russo is
a different story.

He had a minor heart
attack last year.

Surprised he had one to attack.

Oh, cut it out. Look it.

My point is, I think
the real reason

he's doing this is to prove
to himself he's really okay.

The only thing that
kept Russo down

was the huge chip
on his shoulder.

But he blames me to
anyone who will listen.

Yeah, well, your reputation's
safe with anyone who matters.

But it still don't
sit right with me.

And beating the snot
out of him does?

Look, from these pictures
and what I saw in the ring,

this could be a bloodbath.

Well, as long as it's his.

Sid, I don't want to
nag you on this...

Good, you can save your breath,
'cause I ain't quitting.

I'm not quitting.

Terry, come on.

Mr. Abetemarco?

You don't want to be
here for this, Craig.

Official police business.

I already know my
dad beat the hell

out of that Timmons guy.

You do?

He came to me last
night in tears

that he lost control so bad.

Good to know he's remorseful.

Sorry you had to see
your old man that way.

We're gonna bounce
back. Both of us.

No doubt.

I figured someone would find
out and come arrest him.

I'll lock up afterwards.

If he comes quietly, I'll
pull the car around back.

No one will be any the wiser.

Come on.

Harry?

Got to talk to you.

Hello, Nurse.

Detective. What
are you doing here?

I'm stopping you.

What? No, I-I'm doing my job.

The job that you do

where you come in on nights
that you're not even scheduled?

What are you talking about?

Your coworker told
me everything.

You don't see what I see.

The way people abuse themselves
with food or booze or drugs

or are too old,

and just taking up space.

Right, so you do them a
favor by killing them?

This hospital should spend

what little money they have
on genuinely sick people.

Wouldn't it have been better

to ignore that kidnapper
you brought in,

and help an innocent
young child who needs it?

Whatever you're planning
on doing with that syringe,

I promise you, this
bullet's gonna be quicker.

Drop it.

I am doing the right thing!

I am making the
world a better place.

No.

That's exactly what
I'm doing right now.

Hey.

You know, I knew
Harry Makris, too.

First day of court,
way back when.

I was so nervous, I tripped
going up the courthouse steps

and broke my lucky heels.

So I ran over to Harry's
in my stocking feet and he

he fixed those heels for
me right there and then.

Probably saved my career
before it even got started.

Man did great work.

I'm sorry he's gone, Anthony.

Now I'm hearing that
Timmons is suing his estate

for the last few pennies he had.

Unless we stop him.

You said our hands were tied.

They were until I
dug a little deeper

on how he actually operates.

Oh, yeah?

Take a look at this.

Wow.

Mm-hmm.

I didn't know you
guys were still here.

Just finishing up.

Got everything you need?

And then some.

She can go back to her cell.

Have a seat.

I should've
introduced you to her.

I've met enough suits.

Uh, no, the prisoner.

She worked for the same
guys that hired you.

You're lying.

Like hell.

And it looks like she
just gave us the names

that we were asking you for.

Wait, you got
someone else to flip?

Yeah, lucky break.

But I was gonna flip.

Till you weren't.

I just got some final
paperwork for you

to sign here and
it's off to prison.

Where everyone will think I gave
the names and I'm a dead man.

You made your bed, Pruitt.

No. I'll give you the info.

You go call the
D.A. before they do

and get me my witness
protection back.

Honestly, all this
back-and-forth with you

has me exhausted.

I'm done.

Uh...

There's a safety-deposit
box under my name

at Regal National
Bank in Cobble Hill.

Inside is an
encrypted hard drive,

and here's the password.

I guarantee it's got stuff
ten times more valuable

than that lady was
gonna give you.

Go call the D.A.
Get me my deal back.

Captain McNichols,

would you mind
having someone verify

the authenticity of this
information, please?

Mm-hmm. You got it, Reagan.

Captain? You said
she's a bad guy.

Yeah, look who doesn't
need A.I. to dupe someone.

Guess you still can do
it the old-fashioned way.

Detective Abetemarco.

What a surprise.

Wow. Looks like somebody gave
you a righteous beatdown.

Somebody, huh?

It wasn't him, Mr. Timmons.

And you should be more
concerned with these people.

Uh...

I don't recognize
any of these people.

No?

Because you listed them
as disabled plaintiffs,

denied access to
stores, libraries

and parks all around the city.

Some in multiple lawsuits,

even though none of
them are disabled.

Some have signed affidavits

saying they've
never even met you.

Twisting people's concerns
for the handicapped

to your own end?

You make me sick.

And you'll soon be a defendant,

since they'll be filing
charges against you

for identity theft,
obstruction of justice,

and mail fraud, so
your next guests

will most likely be the FBI.

And I'll beat every one of those

ludicrous charges by myself.

Good luck with that.

Anybody who's their own lawyer

has a fool for a client.

You be well.

Skip the formalities,
boys, just sit down.

So, I'm afraid there can't be

a Gormley/Russo
bout at the smoker.

Seriously?

It was decided by the
Corporation Counsel

for reasons of
insurance and liability.

Why am I not surprised?

Baker?

So, out of, uh, respect

for both of you and
the beef you've got,

the fight will occur
at a private gym

rented for the occasion.

Now we're talking.

Yeah, good by me, too.

And since I will be
acting as your referee,

you need to know that my
rules differ a little bit

than those at the smoker.

One round, no time limit,

no towels thrown, no
saved by the bell,

last man standing
takes the title.

Please read and sign
where indicated,

both pages. What's this?

Just a couple of release forms.

Release from what?
Since the bout

can't be sanctioned by the NYPD,
your health plan can't cover

any medical expenses
that might result.

Fine by me. Me, too.

That's great to
hear. In the interest

of full disclosure, I attached
a schedule of standard

out-of-pocket costs
for various procedures.

Third page.

I'll take a couple of aspirins.

ACE bandages, too.

What? For a busted wrist?

That's, like, heart
transplant money.

Hey, come on. Don't
overthink this, guys.

You're as tough as they come.

Yeah.

Yeah, let's do this.

Good.

Oh, there is one other thing.

Both fighters, regardless
of their condition,

will show up for their
tour the next day.

So

Let's get ready to rumble.

These prices, I, uh...

If my wife gets wind of this,

I think I'd rather
fight Godzilla.

I pulled a thing
sparring the other day.

They blame it on this bout.

I'm flat broke.

Well, the only other option

is to admit that there
was a time in your lives

where you could strut like
roosters, drink like fish

and settle beefs with fists.

But that time ain't anymore.

Yeah, for you.

Yeah. For me.

Call it a draw?

Good.

Now let's all get back to work.

Captioning sponsored by CBS.

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