All language subtitles for FBI.S07E03

Stop overthinking it.

If this girl likes you,
just say, what's up?

Bro, how are you
giving me advice

and you don't even
wear deodorant, bro?

I can't help it. I smell nice.

Yeah.

All right, all right.

Oh, yo, I almost forgot.

No, no, no, no,
it's not a big deal.

Nah, bro, you have
to have lunch.

I can't have them nuns
thinking that Hugo Soto's

little bro is missing meals.

Go inside, ask Gigi for a hero,

and I'll hold the
bus if it comes.

Okay, you better.

What's up?

- Oh, you think you're cute.
- Oh, I know I'm cute.

What's your name?
- I'm not telling you my name.

Uh, how about I
buy you a popsicle

and then you tell me your name?

A popsicle?

Unless you got another
way to beat this heat.

Are you nice? I
don't like bad boys.

I'm the nicest.

For real, you can ask
my little brother.

Javi!

Hey, three miler?

Uh, four. Eight-minute pace.

Oh, really?

Yeah, really.

He meant "wow, really?"

Uh, right.

It was an implied "wow."

I was, um... I was
thinking about adding

another college
application, if that's okay?

What college do you wanna add?

Georgetown.

I'm back on the honor roll,
and it's the best place

if you wanna apply
to the FBI one day.

Wait, is he serious?

I thought...

Did you know?
- I'm as shocked as you are.

So this tin-pot general is
about to hire us to train

half his army when I take
a look out at his driveway

and decided to ask for
a sweetener, you know,

as a gesture of friendship.
- Right.

Meantime, my boss is sweating

'cause he's holding an
unsigned contract worth 25 mil.

And you're about
to blow the deal.

It all worked out.

General threw in
an Aston Martin.

You gotta love the
private sector.

Yep. End of the day,
there's not much difference

between what you and I
do, except I make a mint.

Uh, no, there is a
big difference, Clay.

I enforce the law.
I help people.

You enrich corporations.

Why are we even having
this conversation?

'Cause you think you're better.

And you just proved it.

And 'cause you're still sore
I wrote you into that op

the other night...

except can't admit it
because you liked it.

Bro, come on.

The cloak-and-dagger
stuff suits you.

Well, Pyramid Security is
grateful, all the same.

You did good.

Who were you
surveilling, anyway?

Ah, so he is curious.

Forget I asked.

Taiwanese engineer
selling trade secrets.

Employer hired us to prove it.

Wanna know how we knew when
the deal was gonna go down?

That depends on if it's legal.

Actually, the less
I know, the better.

I gotta go.

Still not sure

why we're being called in
for a gas-line explosion.

Well, mayor's on the record

trying to revitalize
the neighborhood.

Can't spook that Uptown money.

So a bombing.

Six dead, 12-year-old
in critical condition.

Mayor called the ADIC, begging
for us to shut this down

before the story grows legs.

- Any cameras?
- Destroyed.

Any witnesses?

Bodega was a part of
the community, and...

owner was a saint.

Hey.

That looks homemade.

Yeah, the lab will run
the chemical signature,

but a presumptive test

indicates TATP and copper nails.

Copper nails, that's
not normal, right?

No, it's more expensive.
Any nails would work.

The blast marks
suggest that the device

was in the back of the store.
- Away from the customers?

That defeats the
purpose of the nails.

Unless our bomber had a
different target in mind.

Can I get a saw back here?

Looks like our local saint's
running an illegal-gambling op.

All right, people,

meet the target of
our bodega bombing...

the owner, Ignacio Torres.

Community pillar by day,

illegal-gambling
impresario by night.

And judging by the sums
we found in his ledger,

this was not your
grandma's canasta club.

So the question is,
who would wanna bomb

a high-stakes poker game?

Ledger lists all the players
in debt to the house.

Deepest is $200,000 in the red.

Ok... where I come from, that
is called financial motive.

We have a name?
- Negative.

All the gamblers' names
are encoded in a cipher.

Right, well, we gotta
assume the only person

who can decode this on
site died this morning.

Check Torres' finances,
wire transfers, deposits,

anything we can match to
a debt in that ledger.

We ID the people in this book,

and I would wager we're a
page closer to our bomber.

I'm looking, but not finding
any large sums in or out.

Hey, I might have something.

The store's ATM
is an older model.

The camera backs up
off-site every 48 hours.

So we have surveillance
in the bodega.

Nothing from this
morning, but two days ago,

this guy pulled out
3 grand at 4:00 a.m.,

Hugo Soto.

Soto. Wait. How do
I know that name?

He's the legal
guardian and brother

of the boy pulled
from the rubble...

Javi Soto, taken to
Triboro Hospital.

Well, I know prices
are high these days,

but I'd say 3 grand is too
much for a grocery run.

No, he was at that
game. Let's talk to him.

Lost our parents
a few years ago.

I wasn't gonna let Javi
go into the system,

so I stood in front of a judge

and swore that I
would protect him.

Now he might not make
it out of surgery.

That's my fault.

Whoa, Hugo.

That's really hard,
stepping up the way you did,

especially for someone your age.

That's a lot of pressure.

Beating yourself up
isn't helping anybody.

When Javi gets out of
here, he's gonna need you.

You are a line
cook, is that right?

Yeah, that's right.

So how did you afford to play
a high-stakes game at Iggy's?

I had nothing to do with
what happened today.

We're just talking,
Hugo. It's okay.

Okay. Okay.

So I play a little poker so I
can take care of my brother.

Ain't nobody ever made
private-school tuition

on a minimum-wage salary.

But if you guys are thinking
about jamming me up...

Hugo, you're not in trouble.

We're hoping that you can
help us find the person

who put Javi in here.

If you can find your
name on this list,

we can decrypt the rest.

And we'll find
whoever had the motive

to attack that bodega.

That's me.

Great.

I'll go tell the JOC.

Have Scola and the
new guy run it down.

Anyone else on that
list ring a bell?

I mean, everybody was talking
about this crypto bro,

tanked, like, 200
grand last weekend.

Started chirping, saying
that the decks were rigged,

so they threw his ass out.

If you figure out any of the
other names on that ledger,

I would definitely
check him out first.

Okay, that helps. Thank you.

Oh, this was my favorite part.

Back when I was on SWAT,
suspects always act

big and bad until we show up.

In the end, they always scarper.

- They what?
- Run away.

Oh, yeah. No, I can relate.

Spencer Bishop, FBI, open up!

You're too soft with it, man.

Back when I was on SWAT,
we made our presence known.

Oh, you were with SWAT. Yeah,
you never mentioned that.

Please.

FBI, open the damn door!

Yeah?

Hey!

I got him.

Please don't kill me!
I'll get you the money!

What did I tell you?
An attempted scarper.

I swear, if I knew
you were the Feds...

Look, you might have heard
us announce ourselves

if you were listening
to some Mozart and not,

you know, going for
the world record.

Instead, you shot at us.

That's assault on a
federal officer...

20 years.

And we haven't even
gotten to the main course.

Easy.

Look, when he grabbed you,
you said you'd get the money.

Are you talking about the 200K
that you lost last weekend?

Yeah.

So why did you bomb that bodega?

What?

No, I've been chasing Deltone
K's Pharma all morning,

and as soon as I
close my position,

I'm gonna pay back my marker.

Well, why does it matter?
Ignacio Torres is dead.

He might have ran it, but
this is Latin Kings' game.

They're the money
and the muscle.

All right, so,
hey, check it out.

Remember that
high-stakes card game,

you know, the one
that went boom?

Well, according to our
big loser Spencer Bishop,

the operation was run
by the Latin Kings.

Yeah, so I don't know... is
it possible that our bombing

was a rival gang
making a bold move?

Where's my Gang Unit rep?

Alexa, there you
are. Talk to me.

The Kings entered Jackson
Heights last year,

started gobbling up territory
from the Low Street Hustlers,

dropped a few bodies
along the way.

So this could be retaliation.

It's possible LSH
wanted to send a message

by bombing the
Latin Kings' game.

The endless ebb and flow.

So how quickly can we get
eyes on HQs for both gangs?

Inter-agency task
force is already up

on several active fronts.
- Perfect.

We got a fish market,

liquor store,
electronics boutique,

strip-mall church...

all protected fronts
for gang activity.

So the Latin Kings move
into Jackson Heights,

push the Low Street
Hustlers off their turf.

LSH licks their wounds
until they clap back

by bombing the Kings'
gambling operation.

So the next question is...

- Whoa.
- What?

What is... is that... wait.

I'm confused. Is this live?

Yes.

Is this a Latin Kings location?

No, no, no.

That's a Low Street
Hustlers' hangout.

It's retaliation.

Saddle up, people.

We just witnessed the
start of a gang war.

Fire department confirms
three dead at the blast site.

So far, just one ID...
Tonya Johnson, 24...

no priors or gang affiliation.

Yeah, 'cause they don't
care if they kill civilians.

NYPD pulled over three known
Low Street Hustlers headed

towards Latin King territory,
recovered multiple Glocks

fitted with auto sears
and extended mags.

Automatic handguns. Great.

All right, keep
scrubbing footage.

Find me something that'll
help with this latest bombing.

Hey.
- What do you got?

Uh, NYPD is flooding the zone,

but they're not gonna be
able to keep a lid on it.

It's escalating too quickly.

I just got off the phone

with Congresswoman Wright
of the 14th District.

Pressure to close this
case isn't just coming

from the mayor now.

Okay. How do you
wanna proceed?

All right, everybody, listen up.

In the '80s, the Cuban
Mafia went to war

with the Lucchese family over
the city's numbers racket.

What started out as a dispute
over a single bolita hole

exploded into the arson wars.

100 buildings were
destroyed, 65 casualties,

including a four-year-old
little girl.

Now, we cannot let
another turf war spiral

into that kind of terror.

Okay, you heard her, let's
pull up our gang org charts.

Have your teams reach
out to the shot callers.

Have them work their CIs.

We need to shut this war down

before more New
Yorkers get hurt.

You Hector?

You better not have been tailed.

Relax, it's not my first rodeo.

And it ain't your
face catching a bullet

if my homeys see us together.

Hence, meeting in
neutral territory.

There's not a spider
web tattoo in sight.

Why are you so nervous?

Ain't you heard?

A war's about to pop off.

That's exactly what
I'm here to prevent.

Officer Webb said
you're a valuable CI,

that I can trust you.

So talk to me. What are
the Latin Kings up to?

Uh, how's business been?

Mm, you know how hard it's
been keeping this place afloat?

After COVID and the protests
and all these bombings,

got the whole neighborhood
on edge again.

Yeah, I can only imagine.

All this time I've been
saying no to the developers,

I'm starting to think I
should take the deal...

get out of this damn city.

Hmm.

Hand to God, we ain't bomb back.

Don't lie to me.

FBI already spoke to a
Low Street shot caller.

They said you sparked
all of this unprovoked.

Lady, I don't know
where you're from,

but around here, wars
are bad for business.

Right now business is good.

Word came from up top...
don't clap back at Low Street,

even if those weak-ass
punks hit us first.

Yo, are you even
listening to me?

I'm risking my life here.

OA, got a black hoodie,
just made for the exit.

OA, there's a bomb.

Maggie, he locked us down here.

FBI, everybody get
out now! Go! Hurry up!

FBI, that way's blocked.

We're gonna get you out of here.

- Get back.
- Stay back!

Go, go, go. Come on. Come on.

That's it. That's it.
That's it. That's it.

Nice and easy.
That's it. That's it.

I'm gonna double-check
everyone's out.

- Go, go, go.
- Is anybody else in here?

Quick, go. Maggie, hurry up!

Maggie, hurry!

Okay, you, go.

Come on, let's go.

Heads up...

there's been an explosion at
the bar in Jackson Heights

where OA and Maggie
were with our CI.

Good news is, Maggie
and OA are okay.

Bad news is, the
bomber is in the wind.

So let's run him down.
- Okay, wait.

But that... that bar was
neutral territory, right?

So what am I missing here?

Maggie just radioed in a
description of our suspect...

male, 30s, 5'10",
white, brown hair.

Well, not to state the obvious,

but I don't think a
white guy's working

with Low Street or
the Latin Kings.

Right, so what are we
dealing with, a lone wolf?

I want CCTV footage
from a two-block radius

right before this bombing.

Ortiz from BAU just sent
up a preliminary profile.

Based on the three
places targeted,

the bomber's embittered, likely
due to a power disparity.

He's lashing out to express the
lack of control over his life.

That's great.

That narrows it down to about
half of Long Island City.

- I think I got something here.
- Yeah?

Security footage
pulled from the bar.

Yeah, that's our guy.
Stop it right there.

Rewind.

Yep. Stop. Right there.

Zoom in.

Yeah. Elise.
- Yeah, already on it.

Yeah.

Got a hit.

Alfred Landry, age 33, former
army demolition expert,

stationed in Iraq
with the 515th.

Looks like he's struggled
to hold down a job

or a home since.

Yeah, and... and look at
that. He lives in LIC.

Yeah, no ties to either side.

Why would Landry wanna
provoke a gang war

in Jackson Heights?
- I don't know.

We'll ask him when we find him.

We need a location, people.
- Pinging his cell.

Got it. It's pinging
in Williamsburg.

Got eyes on Landry, doesn't
appear to be carrying anything.

Hey, this guy planted
three bombs today, okay?

So approach with caution.

Be advised... he just
picked up another bag.

Well, if he's got another bomb,

we cannot risk
letting him slip away.

Move in. Go, go, go.

FBI! Landry, do not move!

I got him.

Scola, he tossed a phone.

Suspect is in custody.
Repeat... suspect is in custody.

Talk to me, Scola.

Bomb techs are en route,
but do we need to evacuate?

Stand by.

Not a bomb.

Jubal, he wasn't
picking up a bomb.

Then what is it?

A damn windfall.

You got me. I stole
someone's trash.

Man is looking at
9 counts of murder,

and he's still got jokes.

$40,000, hmm?
That's all it takes?

Build a bomb, hurt
all these people?

You know, this kid
is 12 years old,

but he's fighting for
his life in the hospital.

Three surgeries
already because of you.

I found a bag of cash.

People should be more
careful with their things.

Save it. The RT already
found bomb-making equipment

in your basement and linked
your signature to all three

of the bombs.

And let's not forget, you
tried to blow us up too.

But I saw your face... me.

And I'll be the one
pointing you out in court.

You take pride in your
work, don't you, Landry?

Copper nails,

sophisticated timers,
anti-handling devices...

a bomb would have been
deadly regardless,

but you really cared.

You're gonna go away, but it
doesn't have to be forever.

We know that somebody
hired you to set the bombs,

target the gambling op, make
it look like a gang war,

and then paid you
with a dead drop.

So give us a name!

You want a name?

Okay.

Anthony Sanders.

- Who's Anthony Sanders?
- My lawyer.

- Hmm.
- I'm not saying another word.

I think your bomber is bluffing.

He doesn't know who hired him.
- How can you be so sure?

Well, there's no texts,
emails, or interactions

between him and his client.

That doesn't prove
that he's bluffing.

No, but this does.

On Landry's phone
retrieved at the scene.

- "Frisky Cookies"?
- Game's a cover.

Enter Landry's pin here...

voilà, an anonymous
encrypted-messaging network

designed for criminals.

In fact, the whole phone is.

You can only get
one on the dark web.

So this is how Landry's
communicating with his client.

We've got the
entire transaction,

from what buildings to hit to...
- "Your money's at the drop."

But this is anonymous, right?

So there's no way Landry
knew who hired him.

No one does, except
the app maker.

Then let's subpoena them,

find out who he
was messaging with.

App's developer, Optum Force,

traces back to an
unregistered offshore corp...

limited operations, few
assets, as far as I can tell.

A shell company.

It's not my sandbox, but yeah.

Sent it to White
Collar, ran it down,

they came back with some
ties to a UK-based company...

Pyramid Security.

Why would Pyramid Security
wanna make this app?

Best guess...

infiltrate criminal networks
targeting their clients.

FBI did something similar
a few years back...

major source of intel.
- Mm.

Bottom line... Pyramid can
ID who ordered the attacks?

Yes, but good luck getting
them to admit as much.

Cool beans. Mojito?

The Taiwanese engineer...

you knew where the
meeting was going down

because he set it
up on your app.

Why is it always
business with you, man?

It's bad for your chi.

That app is not just
tracking software.

It is dangerous, man.

All right, pump
the brakes, okay?

If there's an app... and I'm
not saying that there is...

it's not good or bad.

It's just computer code.

Okay, well, someone
used your app to set up

three bomb attacks today.

Nine people are dead, Clay.

A 12-year-old is
clinging to life.

That is not just
code. That is real.

We shouldn't be
having this talk.

No, we shouldn't, because
the tech shouldn't exist.

So you need to give
me everything you have

on one of your users, okay?

Hey, one way or the other,

we are gonna shut you guys down,

so make it mean
something, please.

All right.

Say there's some back door
that somebody could use

as a starting point for recon

and say, somehow, you got
your hands on that info.

Ain't got nothing to do with me.

Copy?

So we know the bomber is
financially motivated.

He was hired to hit
three specific locations

in Jackson Heights,
but by whom and why...

I can help with the who.

I got an IP address

for the person Landry
was messaging with.

How did you come by
this information?

Uh, it's an anonymous
tip, but the intel's good.

The IP address comes back
as the Perez Land Group.

Wait, as in Fernando Perez?

The one and only.

Whoa, we have to
tread carefully.

This guy isn't just
a magazine cover.

No, he... he's a legend.

He had to go through the
Mob's construction racket

to become one of New York's
biggest real estate moguls.

Well, and not to mention
the mayor's best friend.

Is this IP address traced
directly back to Perez?

No, just someone in the C-suite.

Perez is worth a fortune.

Why bomb the buildings
when you can buy them?

He can't buy them all.

He's been acquiring
lots in Jackson Heights

for a billion-dollar
legacy project.

Recent "Times" piece
listed several holdouts,

including our bodega,
electronics boutique,

and the bar.
- Right.

Okay, so there's the connection
between the bombings...

and motive.

Perez can't move
forward until they sell.

And the delay's
costing him millions,

but if the business owners
were out of the way...

The bar owner was already on
the fence after the explosions.

There's no way she doesn't sell.

So his plan is working.

My office...

now.

An anonymous tip?
- Yes.

It came from a burner email,

had every communication
between Landry and his client.

Each one came back
to an IP address

linked to Perez headquarters.
- Okay, well...

You know we love a
good anonymous tip.

The intel's good.
We're covered.

Well, let's assume this is true.

It does not mean Perez
hired the bomber.

It could have been anyone
in the organization, right?

Perez is a known micromanager.

Nothing happens
without his say-so.

Okay, chase it down,
but be careful.

Perez doesn't just have an
army of attorneys behind him.

He's got juice.

One misstep, it is
all of our careers.

Got it.

You know your platoon buddy,
moved here from London, Clay?

He works at Pyramid, right?

You have something
to say, just say it.

I know you think that you owe
him because he saved your life.

You don't know the full story.

I-I don't need to.

If this case goes to court,

your anonymous-tip story
is not gonna hold up.

This isn't like you.

I saw how these
private-security companies

work overseas.

They make up their own rules.

If we go through
official channels,

Pyramid's gonna shut
us down or stall.

What if another bomb goes off?

The only way that
Clay is gonna help us

is if we do not use his name.

I just don't wanna see
you backed into a corner

you can't get out of.

Look, if he's so solid,
make him your CI.

One misstep...

If it's all right with you,

I've asked our in-house
counsel, Edmund Wilkes,

to join us, and my
son, Fernando, Jr.

Of course.

Look, we don't have any leads
on the bomber or bombers yet,

but we want you to know that
we're working every angle.

Thank God for the FBI.

I grew up in Jackson Heights.

I just wanna do my part so
people there can have a chance

to succeed like I did.

To the best of my knowledge,

Mr. Perez's assets
have been unaffected

by the violence thus far.

And we hope to keep it that way.

To summarize, you have no leads,

and Mr. Perez's
buildings are unharmed.

Mm-hmm.

Why are you here?

We're just making
our presence felt.

Nothing goes down
in Jackson Heights

without Mr. Perez's
involvement.

That checks out.

Wouldn't your presence be
better felt somewhere else?

These gangbangers have
blown up half of Queens,

and you're in
Midtown for a chat?

I mean, you'd think
with all the money

that my family's donated to the
cops, the Feds, politicians,

you people would be able to
get your head out of your ass.

Excuse my son.

Whatever you need, just ask.

Given your status in
this neighborhood,

it's possible someone's
gonna reach out.

If they do, this is me.

All right, folks, so Maggie
and OA have shaken the tree.

We get to see what
falls out of it.

Ian.

Care to do the honors?

Making contact now.

"FBI is asking questions.

Drop another 40K,
or I start talking."

This is gonna sound weird, Ian,

but you are a
natural at extortion.

All right, so the
text has been sent,

which means whoever our bomber

was communicating
with in the C-suite

now knows we are onto them.

The suspect thinks they are
being extorted by Landry,

which means we just have
to catch him in the act

when he makes the drop.

Easier said than done.

He just changed the
drop location...

Columbus Circle.

It's packed now.

Stay frosty, people.

Nobody moves until there's
confirmation of a drop.

Businessman, alone, briefcase.

Incoming from the subway.

Things are about to get crowded.

Okay, Ulrich, do you
have confirmation?

Negative, hang on.

Okay, drop confirmed. I
repeat... drop confirmed.

Lost visual on the suspect.

Take it easy, SWAT.
You gotta look again.

What's going on?

Sorry.

Sorry, no suspect, no drop.

My bad.

What's up with your boy, Scola?

Come on, now, he's okay.

Red hoodie, baseball
cap, heading southeast.

All right.

OA, can you get an ID?

Negative.

Bag drop confirmed.
All teams move in.

- FBI, don't move.
- I'm not resisting!

Junior?

You wanna call your
dad, or should we?

All right, everybody,
meet our surprise guest...

Fernando Perez II, or
as readers of Page Six

might know him, Junior...

27-year-old Ivy Leaguer with
a string of Insta-model exes

and dismissed DUIs, all thanks
to his father's influence.

Right now he is our
only link to the bomber.

Do we really think the
kid's responsible, though?

His dad seems to have him
on a pretty short leash.

What are the odds we
get Junior to tie this

to his father, who's obviously
the brains of the operation

and had the most to lose?
- Slim.

Perez's lawyer will
be here any minute.

He already got two
cartel bosses off.

That doesn't mean we can't
shoot our shot once he's here.

Make it count.

If you wanna connect
this to Fernando Perez,

you've gotta get Junior on the
record, or we have no case.

Good luck.

What's up?

Hugo Soto's downstairs.

Hugo, I'm so sorry I haven't
been able to check in.

How is Javi? Is
he out of surgery?

I-I just can't sit in
that hospital no more.

I know. I know.

Did you figure out who hurt him?

Where is he? Where's my son?

Mr. Perez, you
need to calm down.

This is ridiculous.

Junior had nothing to
do with these bombings.

This is harassment!

And the mayor's
already heard about it.

Follow me. Come on.

Come here, Hugo.

Is it true?

Did you arrest his son?

I'm not allowed to discuss
active investigations with you.

Don't matter.

Rich people like them always
get away with it, right?

The FBI are doing everything
we can to make sure

whoever hurt your brother
is brought to justice.

You want me to trust the system?

No.

I want you to trust me.

My client will be exercising
his right to remain silent.

That's okay. We'll
do the talking.

You are in trouble, Junior.

No one your dad
can call this time.

Because New York City might
not have the death penalty,

but Uncle Sam does.

You can tone down the rhetoric.

Just the facts.

Nine counts of murder...
ten if this boy dies.

That's not life in
prison. That's the needle.

Three buildings
were targeted today

because three people
said no to your father.

Been a long time since
someone said no to him.

So he asked you to
arrange the bombings,

and now you're on the hook.

But you don't have to be.

We're willing to make a
deal with you, Junior.

If you admit that your dad
ordered you to make that drop...

And what evidence
does the FBI have

linking the money in
my client's possession

to these bombings?

You'll find out at discovery.

Oh. That's what I thought.

Are we done here?

You notice how every time
Maggie mentions this kid's dad,

he gets so tense, it's like
his jaw is gonna snap off.

Mm, BAU says the person
responsible for these attacks

is reacting to a
power disparity,

lashing out to express a lack
of control in his own life.

Well, that makes sense.
His dad's got an iron grip.

I wonder if there's a
way we can chip away

at Junior's faith in him,

you know, get him to lash
out at his oppressor?

We'd have to use his father's
own words against him.

Mr. Perez, thank you for
allowing us to interview you.

I stared down New York's
five crime families

when I built my first project.

I can handle a little
misunderstanding.

Is that what this is...

A misunderstanding?

This innocent boy is
fighting for his life.

As a father, my heart breaks
for this child's family.

But my son...

had nothing to do
with these bombings.

Well, who else would you trust

to take care of this,
um, inconvenience?

Don't play coy.

You've read the tabloids.

You know everybody knows
how much Junior struggled...

reform school, rehab.

Nothing took.

The kid can barely
wipe his own ass,

and you're telling me
he masterminded a crime

of this scale?

I am saying you're
the mastermind.

Let me set the record straight,

and you can verify this
with my board of directors.

Junior is the last
person I'd go to...

for anything.

All right, here goes nothing.

Sorry for the wait. We
just have some, uh...

Some paperwork for you to sign,

if you wanna take
a look at that.

I just wanna say, I-I get it.

I do.

It's never easy following
in your dad's footsteps,

especially when he thinks
you're not good enough.

Get your ADIC in here.

I'm reporting you
for misconduct.

This isn't me talking.
See for yourself.

Take a look.

You've read the tabloids.

You know everybody knows
how much Junior struggled...

reform schools, rehab.

Nothing took.

The kid can barely
wipe his own ass,

and you're telling me
he masterminded a crime

of this scale?

Okay, shut that off.

I think Junior would like to
hear what he has to say, right?

Let me set the record straight.

And you can verify this
with my board of directors.

Junior is the last
person I'd go to...

for anything.

That's enough.

You've always known, right?

Down deep, right?

I mean, he might not say
it to your face, but...

he thinks you're nothing.

My client's done.
Not another word.

So why protect him?

Why not just admit it was him,

it was his idea,
the whole thing?

Why protect him...

when this is what
he thinks of you?

Junior, Junior, I
said you're done.

- But he's right.
- Junior...

Shut up, Edmund!

No one would have died
if it wasn't for him.

For once in your life, keep
your damn mouth closed.

Why should I? I hate him.

I hate him.

I did it. Me, it was me.

He's never seen me, never.

But I bet you he sees me now.

I knew what he was
too scared to do.

Those people were a
problem. I fixed it!

I don't need his love...

but I deserve his respect.

I did what he was
too scared to do.

Those people were a
problem. I fixed it!

I don't need his love...

but I deserve his respect.

We're transferring
your son to MDC,

if you'd like to speak
to him before then.

He doesn't represent
the values of my family,

so he's on his own now.

Wow.

Just like that?

No one's above the law.

Call Patty.

I want Mark from "The Journal"

and what's-her-name from
"The Times" downstairs

in 30 minutes.

The people of New York need
to know I'm sorry for the pain

my son has caused.

Kid is on his own.

I think he always was.

Well, I'll call the
Southern District

and let them know their docket

just got a lot more complicated.

Good work today, all of you.

Uh, Isobel, do you
have a minute...

to speak about where
I got my intel from?

Um...

Maggie Bell.

Hey. Where's your new partner?

Oh, well, rookie's down at
O'Malley's guzzling pints

with the rest of SWAT...
that's where he belongs.

Well, that's too
bad. He's, uh...

No, he knows it. He... yeah.

What's up?

It's the hospital.

Javi Soto died in
surgery three hours ago.

Oh, damn, I'm sorry.
I know that you...

No, it doesn't make any sense.

I spoke to Hugo an hour ago,
and he didn't mention anything.

I'd like to start by sharing
my deepest condolences

to the loved ones of those
lost in today's bombings

in Jackson Heights.

I am standing here with
you all to grieve...

Scola, Hugo's here.

These events came as a shock
to many, especially myself.

But while I may have
failed as a father,

I will not fail the people

of New York!
- Hey! No, no, no, no!

No, no, no, nobody shoot!

Somebody call 911.

No! Someone help him!

Nobody shoot!
Everybody stand down!

You need to give me the gun.

They took everything from me.

For what?

You said I could trust you.
- I know it feels like that.

Hugo...

give me the gun.

Listen to me.

What would Javi want?

What would Javi say
to you right now?

Come on.

Give me the gun.

This is where you tell me

Pyramid's gotta shut the app
down 'cause it's unethical.

"Unethical"? It's
illegal, Clay.

Ah, splitting hairs.

Keep the app live.

I spoke to my SAC.

She's willing to overlook
your hairsplitting.

But from here on out, on paper,

you are my
confidential informant.

You will give me any
and all intel on the app

that endangers public
safety, understood?

Where do I sign?

I'm not messing around.

This isn't Afghanistan.

I'll shut your ass down
if you don't play ball.

What's so funny?

Back in business, baby...

like old times.

Yeah, except no
one's shooting at us.