All language subtitles for fbi.s07e03.1080p.web.h264-successfulcrab_track3_[eng]

- 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.
[laughter]

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.
[chuckles]

- 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.

[tense music]

♪

Javi!

[indistinct chatter on TV]

[door opens, closes]
- 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.

[chuckles]
- 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.

- [scoffs]
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.

[cell phone buzzing]

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.

[suspenseful music]

♪

- 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.

[soft suspenseful music]

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.

- [sighs]

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.

- [sighs]

- 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!

[gunshots]

Yeah?

Hey!

I got him.

[pounding electronic music
playing]

♪

- 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.

[suspenseful music]

- 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.

- [sighs]
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.

[suspenseful music]

[rap music playing faintly]

♪

- 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.
- [sighs]

- 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.

[scoffs] Yo, are you even
listening to me?

I'm risking my life here.

[tense music]

- 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.

[explosion]

♪

[car alarms blaring]

- 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!

[tense music]

- You want a name?

Okay.
[clears throat]

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.

[soft pop music playing]

♪

- Cool beans. Mojito?

- The Taiwanese engineer--

you knew where the meeting was
going down

because he set it up
on your app.

- [laughing] 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?

- [sighs]

- Hey, one way or the other,

we are gonna
shut you guys down,

so make it mean
something, please.

- [sighs]
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?

- [sighs]

- 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.

- [stammers]
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.

[suspenseful music]

- 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...

[sighs] 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.

♪

- [sighs]

- 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.

- [sighs]
- 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.

[suspenseful music]

- 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."

[cell phone chimes]

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.

[phone buzzing]

- 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.

[soft dramatic music]

♪

- 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.

[tense music]

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. [scoffs]
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...
[photo rustles]

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...

[door closes]
Some paperwork for you to sign,

if you wanna take
a look at that.

[sighs]
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.

[door opens, closes]

- [sighs]
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?

[sighing]
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.

[cell phone buzzing]

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!

[gunshot]
- 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.

- [chuckling]

- What's so funny?
- [continues chuckling]

Back in business, baby...

like old times.

- Yeah, except no one's
shooting at us.

- [chuckling]
[engine turns over]

[tires squeal, engine revving]

♪

[dramatic music]

♪

[wolf howls]