Original subtitles

You run this up the flagpole?

I'm about to.

CBP arrived. They want a statement.

I'm sure.

What is our position on this?

Everyone uses their FBI credentials.

We had intel on a smuggling ring

that overlapped with a DEA investigation,

and we're unable to speak on that

for risk of jeopardizing undercover agents

still in the field. Just get...

get Gutierrez on the same page.

So, no statement.

No statement.

Boss, it ain't your fault.

Question to ask is...

would she still be alive if we hadn't tried to save her?

There was a time

I thought of my father as this...

...immovable force.

I would see other kids' fathers

and think they were so much less than mine.

Even the bigger men seemed smaller.

What do you see now?

I don't know what I see anymore.

What do you see when you look at yours?

Um...

I never knew mine.

I had a stepfather

who was somewhere between a...

...a big brother and the coolest uncle you could have kind.

Like a friend.

But he died when I was 16.

How?

I found him and a friend

shot in the back of the head in a railroad switchyard.

It wasn't the kind of crime police

were trying real hard to solve, if you know what I mean.

I'm sorry.

Life is choices.

Making bad ones was my family's specialty.

Now, they're all gone.

We don't need to talk about my family.

We need to talk about yours.

I shouldn't care.

I don't know who he is.

So why am I so fucking scared to do this?

What's your favorite memory with him?

I was in Mexico.

I was nine.

We were at my uncle's hacienda.

We were taking pictures,

and my mom wanted us all on horses.

Me, my sister, my father,

my uncle, his wife, his two sons.

And he had a daughter.

Maybe a year old.

She could barely walk.

She just stumbled around like an old drunk,

knocking into everything and falling down.

And my aunt placed her on a horse.

And the horse takes off

with the baby on its back. And...

...we all watched in slow motion

as this baby was falling six feet to the ground.

My father raced his horse up,

jumped from it,

catches the baby maybe six inches off the ground,

pulled her to his chest and rolled.

The baby didn't get a scratch.

But it scared the shit out of her,

so she cried.

So he handed her to my aunt,

looked at my mother and said,

"Maybe it's better someone just hold the baby,"

as if he jumped off of horses to save infants all the time.

I thought he was immortal.

There's, uh...

there's a psychology course in building sources.

It says your father will always be the man he was

in your fondest memory of him.

Unless he was abusive,

then it's the worst.

And you will always be the age you were

when that memory was formed.

So...

...you got to remind yourself, you ain't nine.

You're a woman.

And he is half the man you made him out to be, if that.

I might need to take this course.

Imagine all the grief it would save me dating.

I haven't figured out how to apply it to that yet.

Yeah. Let me know when you do.

Yeah.

It needs to happen this morning.

We're a day behind.

Your father's too smart. He's gonna figure out

what this isn't real quick,

if he hasn't already.

Then he's gonna start wondering what this really is.

If you don't put arnica on it, Pete, it'll scar.

I don't care.

Well, you will care

in about three years, and you'll really care in ten.

I said I don't want it!

It should've healed a week ago.

But here's a thought, don't pick fights,

and there won't be anything to have to heal.

- Mom, I didn't pick it. - He didn't pick it, honey.

Catcher charged him. Right, buddy?

I don't know what that means.

It means he didn't pick it.

You want some milk, babe?

- Is that real milk? - It's almond milk, honey.

The world is now so warped,

we refer to the compressed juice

of mass-produced almonds and corn syrup as "milk."

The extract from a fruit or seed is a juice,

not milk. I would like some milk from a cow,

from the mammaries of a cow,

where all actual milk is produced.

You are so based.

Cow's milk is in the fridge,

and if you're old enough to lecture me about it,

you are certainly old enough to walk to the refrigerator

- and get it. - I guess we've reached

the part of my childhood where you act like a total witch

to ensure I leave the nest upon graduation.

Yes, in fact,

the minute you walk the stage,

your bags will be packed on the other side, waiting.

Dad!

Hey, you swing a stick at the nest,

- expect a hornet to come out. - Call me a bitch again.

I said "witch." Dad!

I need a minute.

Fuck.

I don't know when I became

a second-class citizen in my own home.

I said I need a minute!

When your father's office calls, you leave him alone.

Yeah.

Get her on a fucking plane.

They strapped C-4 to drones

and dive-bombed 'em like aircraft carriers.

We got to get our story straight, all right?

Ah, shit. Too late.

Don't say a fucking word.

Way to fucking go, guys.

I've seen some messes

- in my day, but this... - It wasn't our idea

to lay IEDs on the migrant trail, Alan.

If you had asked us, we would've told you,

the whole fucking place is mined.

That's why we don't fuck around here.

You see, this is the United States.

There's no place where we don't fuck around, Alan.

Had you assholes been doing your job,

we wouldn't have to be here in the first place.

Yeah, like sitting on our hands was our fucking idea.

You'd better be ready to mesmerize

the fucking world with the story that explains this.

There is no story,

and there'll be no statement.

We have agents working undercover,

and statements endanger their lives

- and hinder the investigation. - Right.

Yeah.

Let's see how far you can kick that fucking ball.

That genie's gonna be pretty tough

to squeeze back in the bottle.

We're gonna need to fire all the flares we got.

You know what I mean?

I'll start calling in my list of favors.

Do you think he can survive without you

for a couple of minutes?

Just superficial. It's bad,

- but it's superficial. - Then walk away.

You knew.

This is how they play.

It's how they always played.

Their technology got better.

You know, it used to be trip wires and pipe bombs.

Now it's suicide vests on the fucking cargo.

Yeah, that one's new for me.

Medivac's a day late and a dollar fucking short.

That's not medivac.

That's for me.

Buenos días.

Buenos días, papá.

You know, Dad, you could read those articles on a computer.

Think of all the trees you'd save.

Nobody has ever killed a tree to make a newspaper.

This paper is made from all the scraps of a tree

after it's been sliced into boards and planks.

Newspapers are the hot dogs of the lumber business, chiquita.

Don't say a word.

It's my last vice, and I'm keeping it.

I don't mind the smoke.

I think it smells good.

Who is this girl, hmm?

What is this upstairs?

She's, um...

Girlfriend?

This new love whose hand you don't hold.

Eyes you don't look at,

with eyes that don't look at you.

This trouble...

Let's talk about that.

'Cause I think you're still in it.

They know.

"They know."

Who's "they"?

They know.

Who is "they"?

They know, Daddy, why you don't own a computer.

- Who is "they"? - How do you afford this house?

How do you afford this staff?

This is my house!

Nobody asks me questions. I ask the questions!

Who is "they"?

Who is "they"?!

Who the fuck is "they"?

Who?

CIA Special Activities.

This is going sideways yesterday.

Get Marshals ready to move.

They came to see me in Iraq.

What do they want?

Your help.

With what?

Alvaro.

Alvaro.

I know what he is, Dad.

We're gearing up.

Hey. Hey, hey. If we go in there,

we're gonna turn this whole fucking thing

- upside down. - Yeah.

We still have Cruz upstairs.

We need this to play out before we unplug an operation.

It's already upside down.

Fucking get Joe on the horn.

- We've been trying. - Fuck.

Gear up. Get ready.

I'll keep eyes on the house.

Let me tell you about the CIA.

In July of 2000, heroin was almost completely eradicated

from the United States.

It was impossible to find.

Then 9/11.

Then your CIA funded every militia in Afghanistan

and every poppy field they could plant,

and they brought back a drug

that had been dormant for a decade.

That's your CIA.

They don't care about drugs.

And they don't care about some South Texas congresswoman

living in a $6 million dollar house

a half hour from the border.

So they wreck your career.

And I bet they really wrecked it, too,

gave you no options.

And now you're here,

and you don't tell me what you want.

It's not what I want.

Dad, fucking go ahead, please.

This should answer the "how full of shit is my daughter?"

question floating around in your fucking skull.

I got the house. Backyard.

Sit the fuck over there.

Your brother is Alvaro Carrillo, leader of Los Tigres.

You're the piece of shit who launders his money.

Seems to be a pretty good business.

Option number one: We arrest you right fucking now,

start seizing your assets, place you in county.

You won't last the night, and you know it.

Option number two:

A foreign operative either funded

or planned or both the killing and kidnapping.

We want him.

You're right.

We couldn't give a fuck how many kilos you truck over the border.

Different agency.

Your brother can stay compliant,

keep doing exactly what he's doing.

We don't give a fuck.

He'll never trust you again.

So we will place you in witness protection,

help you sell this house, funnel all your money

into new accounts under a new name,

and you can keep living the life of a king

in some fucking castle very far from here.

Expect mountains and a shit ton of snow.

You have about 30 seconds

to make a decision before it's made for you.

Got two down in front. What am I doing here?

No snow. My wife hates the cold.

You had two security guards in the house across the street.

When is their shift relieved?

Shifts are 7:00 to 7:00.

How many kids you got?

Four.

What's the birth date of the youngest?

July 16, 2004.

Find the maid. Get her phone.

Hold her in the living room. Wife.

- Gym. - How long?

- Sh-She's home by 10:00. - Up.

Take his ass to the living room.

Hey. I did not ask you.

I asked him.

Thought you needed an answer.

I did need an answer, but I did not need it from you.

I needed it from him.

Are you after my sister now, too?

The most common four-digit passcode

is the birth date of the oldest child.

The second most common is the birth date of the youngest,

and I already know your birthday.

Aah!

Shh, shh. Quiet.

You're okay.

You're all right. Shh. Relax.

The fuck?

The fuck is this?

Get up.

Shh!

The fuck is this?

No-no-no hablo...

- Don't play games with me. - No hablo inglés.

I've been watching you,

habla inglés all fucking week.

¿Quién está escuchando?

¿Eres policía?

Sí.

Yeah, sí, sí, soy policía.

Ustedes.

¿Yo?

¿Yo? No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Sí. Ustedes. Ustedes están escuchando.

- ¿Quién te dio esto? - Ustedes.

¿Que departamento?

- I¡Nombre del hombre! - Guti...

Gutierrez. Gutierrez.

Well, fuck me.

Arriba. Arriba. Move.

Fucking sit. Shh!

We got to calm this shit the fuck down.

It's a fucking disaster right now.

Second security shift starts in nine hours.

We got the cleaning staff arriving in 20 minutes.

We've got bigger problems, Tex. The maid was wired.

Has a DEA contact.

Guess who.

You're fucking kidding me.

Shit.

Your call has been forwarded...

Goddamn it, Joe.

This is my personal.

Yeah, well, work phone ain't working, boss.

What?

What the fuck?

Be warned,

this is not a secure line.

We got problems on this Dallas deal.

One to ten?

Oh, we're at a ten, boss.

Cover is exposed.

Kitten compromised. We had to engage.

The site is secure but we can't hold it.

We've got a nine-hour clock to make a revision

and then execute off that revision.

Revise or reinvent?

Reinvent. We need a whole new deal.

Got ideas?

No, that's above my pay grade, ma'am.

What I want to do is move to

a secure location, but here's the fucking kicker, ma'am.

A staff member is an asset for another group.

A group you were just with.

And her contact is your new friend.

First letter G?

First letter G. Yes, ma'am.

Get to a safe place.

Then get on a secure line and download Kyle

on everything.

Yeah. Yeah, roger that.

And, um...

I'm sorry, ma'am. It went to hell real fast.

What the fuck?

Fuck.

You better be in the air.

Ma'am, I took one in the field.

I need, um...

I need a surgical response team to meet me

at the FBO.

Location of the hit?

Right side.

Uh, I think it clipped the liver 'cause the blood is really dark.

And there's no exit.

- Pulse? - Hold on.

Fuck me.

Fifty-two.

I'm diverting your flight to Liberty. SRT will

meet you at Womack. Is there a med bag

- in your kit? - Getting it now.

Run a drip.

Ma'am, you okay?

- We got a med alert. - Gunshot.

Right side, no exit.

I need to call Neal.

No, I need more information.

Is the copilot there?

He's with me.

Let him take your blood pressure.

Ninety-eight over 51.

She's a pretty fit girl.

That's a little lower than I would like.

Joe, I'm hunting a hospital closer.

I worry it clipped the lung.

Do you know how to do a needle decompression?

- I mean, I-I've... - You're about to.

Needle decompression kit, it's in the bag.

Just look for it.

Okay, I got it.

Okay.

Needle goes in...

- ...second intercostal space. - Okay, which one's that?

It's right here. The cartilage is thick.

You're gonna have to press really hard.

And straight down.

Don't fucking break that thing off in me.

Okay.

Ready?

You're doing great.

This is the farthest thing

- from great, buddy. - My name's Mike.

I'm gonna get you to the ground as fast as possible, okay?

You need me, holler.

Let me get us pointed down.

- I'll be right back. - Thank you, Mike.

Joe, I am rerouting you

to Keesler in Biloxi, 20 minutes.

When you are stable, we will move you to Walter Reed.

I want to call my husband.

I need to stay on the line, Joe.

Use your personal.

There you go.

There you go. Go, Charlie!

Hey.

I know you worry about missing all

the little moments, but watching our nine year old

play soccer is not one to worry about.

Match for the ages: zero-zero,

- four painful minutes left. - Neal?

Joe, what is it?

You need to know,

the sun rises

and sets with you.

- Dad, what... - Joe, are you okay?

The girls are gonna take this really hard.

They'll need you.

Joe, what happened? Joe.

We're starting to make our descent, ma'am.

Get you to put a seat belt on?

Here, don't move, don't move. I got you. Shit.

Joe.

Joe, are you with me?

We got to get this bird on the deck.

Joe.

Joe!

Tower, this is November-five-one-five-niner.

You ETA on SRT?

Seven minutes, Nancy.

Have an EMS standing by. We're cutting this

- pretty close. - Roger, Nancy.

You're cleared for all runways. Choose your approach.

Joe!

Gutierrez looking like a mole.

Why doesn't that fucking surprise me?

What do you want to do?

I want to get him in the vehicle with us and back to base,

then I want to beat the truth out of this motherfucker.

Stow our shit. Let's get ready to move.

Well... you hit the big time now.

Suits are flying in from Langley.

They want to have a big talk with you.

I want to have a big talk with them.

Well, then, today's your lucky day. Let's go.

No, no, no, no.

I haven't been cleared to vacate the scene yet.

I need clearance from my senior.

He just cleared you.

Your boss ain't my boss.

President of the United States ain't your boss?

Come on. Let's fucking go.

I'll stow that in the back.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?

You know, in law enforcement,

when someone gets caught flipping,

maybe they go to prison,

maybe they cut a deal and flip again,

but when you get caught flipping in our game...

...we are gonna wring every lie out of you

and then we're gonna kill you.

And then we're gonna grind you up

and fertilize the garden at Guantanamo

with your fucking ass.

The fuck are you talking about?

It's a three-hour drive to base.

That's how long you have to accept.

And you can't lie to me, 'cause lying

is my fucking business, and I am the best at what I do.

I got no vitals.

Eyes are dilated.

Oh, don't hit her with those paddles.

- That won't stop the blood loss. - There is no blood loss.

It's a GSW with no exit, the blood is internal.

All right, let's run a crystalloid drip, one liter.

Can we get some oxygen?

Let's get her up.

How is she?

She had to be revived en route. She's in surgery now.

What does the family know?

I have the husband en route.

You think that's a good idea?

He's a surgeon. I mean, he's aware of the obstacles,

and he could be helpful.

- Who knows? - That is not what I meant.

Joe doesn't share with him. He knows enough not to ask.

So, what am I walking into here?

A buzz saw. It's the lead story on a slow Monday.

It's the worst possible combination.

Is the cover holding?

So far.

I have something for your back pocket.

The agent DEA sent over...

he was working a member of the Carrillo household.

The maid. He had her wired.

Took us on two suicide missions

and never divulged his informant in the house.

So, if he had the maid,

he knew security was staged across the street.

And he knew it was wired into security,

and he never shared any of it.

You know this how?

Things are falling apart everywhere.

We turn this on them.

They were the ones that told us to work with them.

They were the ones that authorized the follow detail

on Joe in the first place.

Yeah, well, I'm gonna do a lot more than turn it on 'em.

I'm gonna beat 'em over the fucking head with it.

Let me start by saying that I am very fucking pissed

about...

A joint statement from the FBI,

DOJ and the DEA

highlights the extremely sensitive nature

of the operation and deep concerns

that discussing it would jeopardize

the lives of undercover agents

still in the field, but what we do know

is this is the largest loss of life

for a federal agency since the ill-fated raid

on the Branch Davidian compound some 30

- years ago. - To this point,

you have violated virtually every assurance

you gave us when we authorized this operation.

Wait, the operation we are on now is so far from the operation

- that you initially requested... - Whose fault is that?

- It's not ours. - Did the CIA appoint

a different deputy director since our last meeting?

Did Special Activities... your program in particular...

mysteriously find itself under the control

of people not standing in this room??

We were given a mission: return the congresswoman,

which we did.

Then you gave us the task of infiltrating

the largest criminal organization

inside our closest neighbor

with an asset not of our choosing,

with agencies that we specifically warned

- against working with. - You were given

a blank fucking check for resources and assets,

and all you've done is commit our Army

to its first battle in Iraq in a fucking decade,

and then run a nighttime raid in Mexico

on a human smuggling operation

and don't bother rescuing the smuggled humans

when you fucking find them.

We were sent in with a team of eight

and intel from a stateside law enforcement agency

that was mandated by you!

We have never mandated any parameters

to the execution of your missions, apart from avoidance

of collateral damage and maintaining your cover,

both of which you have entirely violated.

That's fucking bullshit!

Come on. Everybody sit down.

Come on, sit the fuck down.

Now, how do we move on from this?

We're so far off the original purpose

of this mission that I can hardly remember

what the fuck it is.

Now, what happens when your Lioness

is in fucking Mexico,

a place where there is no rule of law,

what happens when your QRF is outnumbered a hundred to one,

in a nation that will see your actions

as a crime

and an act of war, simultaneously?

We are a clandestine organization, sir...

I don't know if you can make that claim anymore.

- Go fuck yourself. - Are you unaware

of the chain of command in this room?

You are at the bottom of it,

so show some fucking respect, Byron.

All right, all right.

Come on.

Now, we have a series of catastrophes

that need to be contained.

And I need to fully understand

if this operation is executable,

and exactly what the future risks are.

If I may, we have made contact

with Carrillo in Dallas.

We have a Lioness and the shadow...

they're embedded.

Once inside, they were compromised

by security personnel unknown to the operation.

- Why were they unknown? - Two reasons.

We were given a timeline of days to insert,

giving us no time to mine proper intel.

And two, the DEA agent that was assigned to our task force

has an informant working in the Carrillo estate.

This information was withheld from us, intentionally.

So, this renders everything

we have done to this point as compromised,

and every future operation as compromised as well.

Define compromised.

Carrillo physically assaulted our Lioness,

which caused our shadow to have to intervene,

which mandated QRF to have to take control of the scene.

QRF one has removed Carrillo and the informant

to a safe location and QRF two remanded

the compromised agent into custody

- at Bliss... - We are not authorized

to detain a federal agent.

Under U.S. Code 2381,

our officers are authorized to detain anyone

who gives aid to our enemies abroad

or within the United States.

TFO is assisting in cleaning up the scene in Dallas.

Meanwhile, we have to decide whether we're gonna act

with the information we possess

or whether we're gonna shut the operation down.

I should also add that our senior case officer

was injured in the altercation at the border.

She's being treated at Keesler.

If the operation is successful, she will be

- transported to Reed. - Are you talking about Joe?

I am, sir.

Wounded how?

Gunshot to the chest.

The bullet, uh, penetrated the liver,

fragments entered the lungs.

Is there a prognosis?

- No. - There is not.

I don't know.

A successful mission would send a strong message to the Chinese,

but would have no value from

a public perspective standpoint,

because we must publicly deny

that a mission took place.

This feels like a punt.

Slow down,

find another way in.

With less risk

and a lot less collateral damage.

Unfortunately, sir, I...

I don't think we're in a stopping place.

- Why not? - We are currently

holding number two in the Chihuahua-Coahuila cartel.

That will not go unnoticed.

We are also holding the agent with the DEA.

He must either be released or handed over to DOJ.

Well, I don't see a plan to go forward.

We shift our mission focus, sir.

We shift it from an insertion to a hard target hit.

We transport Carrillo back to Mexico.

We focus on the senior leadership within that cartel.

And we hope that MSS is embedded

- with that leadership. - How does that solve

the issue that we're still detaining a U.S. citizen

with no authority to do so, and a federal officer?

The QRF will ensure that neither return

once the operation is complete.

All right.

I'm stepping out.

That's a black op.

We cannot and will not authorize one.

I'm not saying it shouldn't happen.

What I'm saying is...

...we can't authorize it.

Understood?

Understood, sir.

We need this

entire thing to disappear, Byron.

Make the whole goddamn thing go away.

We will.

Get to Bliss, then Dallas.

Find us a way out of this tornado.

How bad do you want the target?

I don't-I don't give a shit about the target.

I want out.

If the target's the way out, so be it.

If not, just get me contain.

Know what that means, don't you?

Somebody's getting it.

Don't know what you're talking about.

I don't hear a thing.

Oh, you're so fucked.

You know what they do to fuckers like you in prison? Huh?

Your asshole is gonna be

so fucking stretched,

I'm gonna put my fucking foot in it.

You take one pistol course at Thunder Ranch,

you think you're a fucking special operations unit.

You like that?

All right. All right.

Hey! How long you been on the maid?

Fuck you. Fuck you.

Asshole.

You know what this is?

It's your file.

Every case you're working,

every request for surveillance, every CI. Everything.

Ain't the NSA a beautiful thing?

Doesn't mention the maid at Carrillo's house.

Shit. Doesn't even mention Carrillo.

You don't have an open investigation on him.

The fuck we don't.

No, I didn't say the agency, I said you.

This is the DEA file on Carrillo,

and it is pretty fucking thin.

I got no wiretap requests, no bank searches,

no data mining of any kind.

You know what I got?

A known associate designation

and his fucking tax returns.

But you...

You got a wire on his fucking maid

and no record of it.

There's a federal statute, 2381.

It details our nation's definition of treason,

which is knowingly aiding an enemy of the state...

which Carrillo clearly is...

and withholding information from a federal agent or agency

that results in harm to a federal agent or agency

is considered aiding an enemy of the state.

This is an act of war, Raymond.

See, this falls under AUMF.

It is the authorized use of military force

to protect the state against

both foreign and U.S. nationals.

AUMF number 107-40, statute 224.

That means, Raymond,

I can kill you for what you did to us yesterday,

and I can kill you for what you won't tell us.

Hey.

Where is he?

Bathroom.

- Anything left of him? - I'm just getting started.

Take that off.

You want to sit up? Sit up against the wall.

There you go.

You're gonna feel better now.

So...

Your wife is Amanda.

Her maiden name is Petit and, uh,

she's a physical therapist.

Your son Rafael...

he's 14.

Danny is 11 and Kendra, your daughter,

is nine.

So, the first thing we're gonna do

is we're gonna release your home address

and then the name and location

of their schools, and...

Danny's tae kwon do class, Kendra's dance class,

the home address of your parents,

your in-laws, because killing you

isn't gonna satiate our appetite

to do you harm for what you've done to us.

So, your only option to spare your family this fate

and any hint you might have of a future on this planet

is complete surrender.

You have to surrender everything.

Every name, every connection, every link to the cartel

- and yourself. - You don't understand.

No, I understand everything.

You don't understand.

If I made a file of it, then he would know.

Then everybody would fucking know.

You think I planned yesterday?

Half my fucking team is dead.

Best man at my fucking wedding got killed.

I almost got killed.

How did you get her?!

She nannied my oldest son.

I always had her.

I had her from day one.

I didn't wire her

until you guys showed up.

You don't trust me?

Right back at you.

- What'd she give you? - Nothing.

Nothing.

He does no business at the house.

No phone calls, no computers, nothing.

No friends come over,

no dinner guests, nothing.

Six years she's been in that fucking house, and I got...

I got shit for it.

Far as his bank accounts,

he's got checking and savings account.

Never more than eight grand in the checking.

Three hundred grand in the savings.

Now, how'd he buy that house?

He fucking didn't.

A guy named Peter Ramon built it

and then he fucking died.

And guess what?

He left it to Carrillo

in his fucking will.

How's that for laundering money?

It's so fucking clean,

motherfucker could write a book.

But proof? One shred of evidence?

Doesn't exist.

Thirty milligrams of methylphenidate.

Polygraph him.

All right. You and you,

you're coming with me.

We have to clean up a mess in Dallas.

Uh, ma'am, we've...

We've lost comms with Joe.

We have no contact.

Joe is en route to Reed.

Walter Reed?

One slipped under her armor.

That's right. I might lose a best friend, too.

What if he fails?

Dump him in the river.

Afternoon.

Ma'am.

Who are you?

Would you mind having a seat?

Now, we expected you around 10:00.

Yeah, well...

I went to lunch with my friends, and then shopping.

Where's my husband?

Would you hand me your cell phone?

Por favor?

Where is my husband?

We're gonna take you to him, okay?