Chicago P.D. (2014–…): Season 3, Episode 6 - You Never Know Who's Who - full transcript

"You Never Know Who's Who" The discovery of a body leads to a cache of weapons, which then leads Intelligence on a strange investigation into a team of "operatives" that are targeting ...

- This is Officer Adam Ruzek

requesting immediate backup.

- You were out there
without the permission

of a supervisor.

You've been stripped
of your police powers

until the chief
determines your future.

- There's a young girl,
and she's my daughter.

- If you have any hope
of keeping us together,

you'd better get
a paternity test.

- I don't know what
your relationship status is,

and I don't care,
but I need to know

someone's got Lindsay's back
24 hours a day.

- What is that for?

- Because
I wanted to kiss you.

- I heard Roman took
the week.

Is he going to Cabo
or what?

- Not quite.

- Ah, right.
He flew to Vegas.

He's got that hook-up
at Caesars.

- Actually, he's dealing
with a personal medical issue.

- STD?

Yeah, wouldn't be the first time
that dog's picked up fleas.

- For your information,
he was donating bone marrow

to a little kid, and sadly
that kid might not make it.

- Wow.
Sounds depressing.

- I try and see
the other side of it.

What Roman is doing
is inspiring.

- I donated blood once.
- Okay.

- But I forgot to eat
that cookie that they give you.

So I rolled to Jimbo's,
nothing in the tank.

A couple of pops later,
I wake up in bed

with my mom's best friend.


- 2113.
- Go for 2113, squad.

- Need you to roll on
a 10-37 at Union Park.

Caller states there's
a suspicious person

in a black SUV.

- Ten four, dispatch.
We are three blocks out.

What are you doing
out here so late?

- Just hanging, talking.

- Oh, my favorite pastime.

Talking with girls in cars
at midnight.

- He's obviously some perv
spying on people,

so I called it in.

- Okay, we'll take it
from here.

Go home.

Price, you come with me.

- All right, let's do this.

He probably had
one too many drinks

and passed out
before he made it home.

- Sir?

Please exit the vehicle.

- Hey!
Let's go.

- No, he's not passed out.

This guy's dead.

- Damn, you're right.

- Dispatch,
roll an ambulance

to the northwest corner
of Union Park.

- Copy that.
- Easy, buddy.

- Son of a bitch!

- Northwest corner
of Union Park.


- Are you out of
your mind?

- I just thought that--
- The glass.

Obviously bulletproof.

we've got a situation.

[indistinct chatter]

- The entire SUV is coated
with a bullet resistant seal.

Even the chassis
is bombproof.

- The kind of vehicle

or government agents use.

- Three, two...
- Hey, you guys might want

to step back.
- One!


White male,

No signs of foul play.

Searching for I.D.

No wallet.

He's got
a stainless steel 1911.

- Hey, guys.
The license plate came back.

This SUV's registered
to a company.

Peregrine Security.
Owned by one Victor Cullen.

Mouse is sending you
his DMV photo now.

[phone chimes]

- Recognize this guy?

- That's him.

Okay, get a warrant
for Cullen's address.

Have the others
meet us there.

- [grunts]

[alarm beeping]

[alarm blaring]

[alarm stops]

- Check this out.

- Huh.

- Whoa.

- Huh.

- This guy
was somebody important.

I'm looking at
a million dollars here.

[loud clang]

- It's the back-up

[power up whine]

- [gasps]


[van beeping]
- Whoa, that's good.

- Well, what've you got for me?



You arrest the leader
of a small African republic?

- Start cataloging 'em,
get 'em to forensics ASAP.

- Roger that.

Hey, Al.
Uh, that DNA test

that you wanted on Michelle.

The results are in.

I guess congrats
either way.

- Yeah, you got it.

Hey, that was Mouse
asking if anyone was available

to help inventory all the guns
that were recovered last night.

I volunteered you.
- No, come on, Sarge.

I just--I want to take a shower
and sleep for, like, two days.

- Take a bird bath
in the ladies room.

Overtime is like gold
around here.

- Hey, look, can I
ask you something?

Look, Adam is trying so hard
to be stoic

about getting stripped,
but it's not him, you know?

He wears everything
on his sleeve,

which is maybe why
I just love him.

You know what?
Forget it.

- Burgess,
we're like sisters.

We can talk about
our problems.

For example,
come here.

- Okay.

- I'm with Mouch last night,
and we're doing our thing.

You know, I got Black Sabbath
going on the stereo,

and he's rounding the bases,
heading towards home.

All of a sudden--
- Oh, you know what, Sarge?

I don't think that I'm old
enough to hear this story.

How about just
a little advice?

- Go ahead, shoot.
- Okay.

This Crowley, she seems
to really have it in for Adam.

And he's great police.

I think I should tell her
as much.

- Oh.

Go and give one of
the highest ranking females

in the department
a piece of your mind?

Do not do that.

- Black Sabbath?
- Works every time.

Even when it doesn't.

- Uh, just so you know,
the other night on the couch--

- Oh, yeah.
It was a great choice.

- Mm.
- Supple yet firm.

- It was a one-time deal.
- One time, got it.

- Mm-hmm.
- Got it, one-time deal.

- I mean it.
Gotta be professional.

- Hey, boss, hey.
- Yeah.

Uh, any word about my case?

'Cause I'm kinda
climbing up the walls here.

- I made a few calls trying to
pull in a favor with the Chief.

In the meantime,
give Mouse a hand

with those guns
we seized.

All right,
what do we got?

- Victor Cullen.

Five years ago,
he founded Peregrine.

It's a corporate security firm.
- Mm-hmm.

- Before that, his work history
is blank for several decades.

- The M.E. is performing
the autopsy as we speak,

and from his preliminary

Cullen was dead
for at least a week.

- Yeah, patrol working
the Union Park beat says

Cullen's SUV wasn't there

when they made their sweep
the night before,

so someone drove his body there
and left it.

- Neighbors say
he was extremely private.

No family in the area.

He had a long-time girlfriend
named Jainie Saunders.

- What?
Cullen's been dead a week

and his girlfriend
doesn't report it?

She's suspect number one.

Find her and bring her in.

- Uh, Hank,
we don't have to.

Jainie Saunders is downstairs
with her lawyer.

- After this morning's
news segment,

my client wanted
to voluntarily come in.

She's an emotional wreck,

and she's only willing
to admit

to improper disposal
of human remains.

- All right, well, until we get
the autopsy results in,

we can't rule out
foul play.

- I did not kill Victor.
He had arrhythmia.

I begged him to get treatment,
but he refused.

He just kept popping aspirin.

- So what happened?

- We were at home.

One minute having dinner,
and the next,

he collapsed.
A heart attack.

- So instead of calling 911,
you did what exactly?

- I put him in the garage.

Then last night,
I drove him to the park.

- Jainie, you have to imagine
how this looks on our end.

Victor's been dead a week,

yet he turned up in the park
last night.

We searched his home
and we found an arsenal

and a million dollars cash
in the basement.

- You think I don't know
how this looks?

I loved Victor.

I loved him.

I just did
what he told me to do.

- Which was what?

- Jainie, you got to
help yourself out here.

- Victor said that
if he ever died,

I should leave his body
in a public place,

and the agency
would find him.

- Agency?

- Victor...he was CIA.

- Hey.
- Hey, Sean, what's that for?

- I'm gonna be
your driver today.

- The doctor said
I wasn't allowed outside.

- I think it'll be okay.

- It'll be fine.

- Where are we going?

- Well, that's a surprise.

- There you go.
- All right.

Here we go.

- Here's his bag.
- All right.

I'll have him back
in a little bit.

- Okay.

- Oh, I almost forgot.

We're officially partners.

- Really?
- Yep.

So you better have my back
out there, okay?

- Okay.

- Olinsky.
- Bishop.

- Hey, 1999. Hezbollah and
Latin Kings in bed together.

Seems like a lifetime ago.

- I take it this isn't
a stroll down memory lane.

- Victor Cullen.
Found his body last night.

Supposedly one of yours.

- Never heard of him.

Then again,
you never know who's who.

- I'd appreciate it
if you could find out for me.

- I'll reach out
to the powers that be.

- Thanks.

- Okay.

- Got it.
- Good?

- Yeah.

Hey, babe, I'm sorry
you got stuck down here

doing grunt work.

- So much better
than answering the phones.

Let me tell you.

Besides, I'm kind of
enjoying the company.

- [chuckles]
Me too.

- Good?
- Yeah.

- All right.

- Hey, listen...
About the wedding...

You know, like picking
a date and all that.

Like, until the whole thing
with Deputy Crowley blows over,

let's just not
worry about it, okay?

- Hey, Kim, you know,

whether I'm a cop or not,

our relationship's
not going to change.

You know that?

'Cause you're like the best
thing I got going on right now.

- Okay.

- What's happening, gents?

- I don't know, Mouse.
You called us.

- Oh, yeah, ballistics started
coming in on Cullen's guns.

And three of them match
three unsolved murders

that happened
in the last year.

I have no idea
how Cullen is connected,

but there's
a strange pattern.

Eddie Diaz.
The gangbanger who beat

a manslaughter charge
a few years back.

His stray bullet
killed a little girl.

His lawyer got him off
on a technicality.

He was executed point-blank
in his garage.

Mr. Josh Henderson.

He's a UIC dropout
turned computer hacker.

He preyed on a string
of elderly victims.

Drained their bank accounts.

Got probation, but he was
ambushed at a stoplight

less than six months ago.

And the third,
one Terrence Jenkins.

- Arrested for multiple sexual
assaults of underage girls.

None of them would testify
at trial, so he walked.

- He did.

Until they found his body
shot to death

last month in a field
near Hegewisch.

- Hmm.

- If Cullen really is CIA,

then maybe this is
some secret program.

- Yo, Sarge.
- Hmm?

- I just got off the phone
with the medical examiner.

Victor Cullen's body was
just stolen from Chicago Med.


- Sir,
welcome to the 21st.

Are you ready for duty,

- Sure am.

- Your hat, sir.

This way.

- Looking good, Captain.
- Your office, sir.

- And here we go.
- Cool.

- A little something
for you, sir.

- What do you think, Andrew?
- Awesome.

- Okay. Now, we have
a very busy day, sir.

We're doing cell checks,
interviewing offenders,

taking a trip
to the gun range.

- Really? The range?
- If we have time, sure thing.

- But first, sir, I am going
to need your signature

on this asset forfeiture form.
- What's that?

- It means we're taking
a brand-new Porsche

from a drug dealer.

- Wow. Can't wait to be a cop
when I grow up.

- Sir, what would you like
in your coffee?

Cream and sugar?
- You got hot chocolate?

- One hot chocolate
coming up.

- Excellent choice, sir.

- They forced their way in,
attacked me.

It happened so fast.

- They move like pros.
- Yeah.

You got anything on
the parking lot cams?

- One of them caught a black SUV
speeding from the lot.

No plates.

I wonder if Victor Cullen was as
interesting alive as he is dead.

- His girlfriend said the CIA
would want his body, right?

Who else would take it?

- Look,
secret operation or not,

you can't commit murder
and steal bodies with impunity.

[phone vibrating]

- Hank, we got a hold
of DMV records.

In addition to the SUV
that we found Cullen in,

he's registered three other
identical vehicles,

all purchased
through his company.

All four of Cullen's SUVs
were outfitted as bulletproof

by a car-armoring company
on Pulaski.

- So we got three armed

driving around the city
in custom tanks?

- The thing is, Cullen never
picked up any of the SUVs.

One of his employees did,
a guy named Ryan Bergstrom.

We gonna send you
his LKA now.

- Just got the alert
on this guy.

Ryan Bergstrom.

His record's clean
until he ripped off a body.

- All right.

This sure looks like
one of Cullen's SUVs.

Okay, you take the back.
- All right.

- Go.

[saw buzzing]

Chicago P.D.!



- Gun!

- Go!

- [grunting]

- Don't move!

- I'm a special agent
with the CIA.

I got clearances.

- It says here you took
the CPD test three times.

Each time,
you were rejected.

Color blind, huh?

- Yet somehow you were
recruited into the CIA.

- You got my letter there,

- This thing?

A letter of immunity from
the Central Intelligence Agency,

signed by Victor Cullen.
That's your proof?

- Yeah, that's all
the proof you need.

- You won't tell us anything
about your so-called operation,

at least tell me this.

Why dismember Cullen's body?

- I was following orders.
- Okay.

- Whose?

- [exhales sharply]

- I'm just
a simple city cop.

I'm sure this is
a real inconvenience

for a government agent
like you.

I got bosses
I got to answer to.

I gotta give them

So do me a favor,

Just shed some light.

That's all I'm asking.

- I'm part of an operation
called Streetcleaner.

We neutralize targets posing as
threats to national security.

Targets that simple city cops
couldn't get off the street.

- Why dismember Cullen?

- I was looking
for something.

When an agent dies,
their chip has to be removed.

- From his body?

- Those were
my instructions, yes.

- The weapons we found
at Cullen's house?

We can tie him
to three unsolved murders.

You're saying those murders
are sanctioned?

- I'm not saying anything,

So can I go now?

- Hank, you got a minute?

- Hey.
That name you provided,

Victor Cullen,
I had it checked out.

Looks like you've got
a false alarm.

- What exactly
does that mean?

- Cullen was with the Agency,
just for a minute,

but never a field agent.

He was an intelligence analyst
right out of college,

stationed down in Panama.

- Working the Iran-Contra

- Around that time,
but he didn't last long.

Cullen suffered
a meltdown.

Turned out he'd been lying
on his psych reports.

So they shipped him home,
cut him loose.

- Ever since, he's been
playing secret agent.


- I had my own office
and everything.

Then they gave me this CPD
leather, like a real Captain.

- I'm so proud of you,

- But we didn't make it
to the gun range, Sean.

Can we go tomorrow?

- Definitely tomorrow.

- I'm gonna go grab
some coffee.

Do you want some?
- Uh, sure.

- Okay.

- My dad was supposed to
come here today.

I'm glad
you're here instead.

- Hey, I'm sure
he means well.

- I don't know.
He always makes my mom cry.

I think she likes you better.

- Finally got access
to Cullen's financial records.

His security firm
was well-funded,

but not by the government.

His mother.

She owned a huge soybean farm

Passed away five years ago.

When it was sold off,

Cullen inherited
over 30 million.

His bank statements indicate
Cullen was withdrawing

large amounts of cash
the last few years.

It seems he was paying Bergstrom
and his other operatives

15k a week.

- Damn.
I wish he was still hiring.

- Guys,
this is Dr. Charles.

Dr. Charles,
welcome to Intelligence.

- So...this is it.

The infamous black site

I've been reading about
all these years.

- Not everything you read
is true.

- Uh, please.

I asked Dr. Charles
if he could dig up

Victor Cullen's
medical history for us,

maybe shed
a little light.

- So, Cullen indeed had
a physical condition.

Heart ailment
dating way back.

But it's his psych file
that's fascinating.

He suffered from something
called delusional disorder.

People suffering from
delusional disorder

continue to function
and present as perfectly normal.

Hence, Cullen's remarkable
ability to recruit people

into his Soldier of Fortune

To him it was all
absolutely real,

which is why
it felt real to others.

- Doc, we got somebody else
who needs to hear this.

- After, uh,
Cullen stopped taking his meds,

he started to create
his own assignments.

Trying to relive
his glory days in the CIA,

except for
none of it was real.

I understand how difficult

it must be for you
to hear this.

- The things I've done...

I'm not a criminal,
all right?

Those scumbags who got off,
they're the criminals.

- Yeah. Well, here's
your reality check.

Whether they were
bad guys or not,

you still committed
multiple pre-meditated murders.

- Hey, you contact the others,
help bring them in,

we'll talk to
the state's attorney,

see what we can do.

- Look, even if I could,

Cullen gave strict orders.

If something was to happen
to him,

we were to only take

from a CIA handler
in D.C.

A guy named Carl Jacobs.

- Did any of you
ever meet this Jacobs?

- No. No, but he
promised we would

once the operation
was completed.

- Sorry, but given the facts,
it's highly likely

that this Mr. Jacobs
was also a figment

of Mr. Cullen's

- Special Agent Jacobs?
- Yeah.

- We'll hear you over the phone
and your I.D.

- Oh, good.

- Yeah, I copied
the CIA's watermark.

It looks...
looks like the real thing.

- Yeah.
- So...

what did
the DNA results say?

- I haven't opened it yet.
- I get it.

Savoring the moment?
- Thanks, thank you.

- Hey.
You all set?

All right, listen up.

Bergstrom's reached out
to the other two operatives.

Why don't you tell them?

- Yeah. I left a coded message
on Craigslist.

"Missed Connection" board.

It's how Cullen
would reach out to us.

Every day, we'd log on
and read it.

And if there was mention
of the 39th floor,

we knew to meet
at Wabash Tower.

He would lease
the 39th floor.

It's where we'd meet
and plan our operations.

Me, John, and Clay.

We never shared
our full names.

- Wabash Tower. There's a lot
of civilians, in and out.

I assume your pals
show up packing?

- We'll set up a perimeter
and grab them before they enter.

- That could turn into
a shoot-out on Wacker Drive.

- No.

We let our CIA handler
get their guard down.

He'll lure 'em out.

We take 'em down
without any incident.

- Once they hear the sound
of my voice,

they'll follow the piper.

- Who's this?

- Jacobs.

- When he heard
what happened to Cullen,

he flew out from D.C.

- Where's John?
- And where have you been?

- He's been in
a holding cell.

You report to me now.

- Wait, the cops
are involved?

- For a minute,
but I handled them.

- Credentials.

- Satisfied?

- Only one of 'em showed up.

- Well, that's better
than none.

- We have a target.
Get ready.

- We're going to need to find
John and bring him in as well.

Where is he?

- I don't know.

He said he was going to see
the mission through.

- Well, there is no more mission
'cause Cullen is dead.

So I'm gonna take you
to the field office,

get you some clearance.

- Listen,
Jacobs can fix all of this.

- And I'm going to need you
to release that sidearm.

- Until I'm all clear,
I'll hold on to it.

- All right,
I can respect that.

Let's go.

Come on.

- They're on their way.
Let's move.

- Excuse me, sir.

Sir, police business.

Can you use
another elevator, please?

- Police business.
Can you clear the area, please?

Thank you.

- All right, as soon
as it opens, we take him.

- Cullen talked a lot
about you.

Said you worked a covert op
in Rhodesia.

- Yeah, East Africa.

Talk about a party.

- Yeah, I must have
heard that story ten times.

How the two of you survived on
beef stew MREs for six months.

- Mm-hmm.

The reason I can never
eat another steak in my life.

- Yeah, what was the name
of the operation?

- Operations are like women.

You can never remember
all their names.

- You remember the name?
- [chuckles]

Yeah, of course.
It was--

- Let Jacobs say it.

You traitor.

- [grunts]

- Shots fired.
- Back up, back up.

Everybody get back.

[both grunting]

[glass shattering]

[both grunting]


[both grunting]



- Third floor.


Alvin, you all right?

- 10-1, officer shot, roll
an ambulance to Wabash Tower.


- Take cover.


This way!


Drop your weapon!


[siren blaring]

- I'm--I'm so sorry.
I just got to talk to her.

Hey, Emma.

- Trudy.

- You doing that caveman thing?
- Paleo diet.

- Oh.
I wish I had that discipline.

- All it takes is owning
the decisions you make.

- Yeah.

I remember when we were
in the academy

and they did
that locker search

and you asked me to hide
your Percodan in my locker.

I got put on
probationary status for that.

And you, what,
you got, like,

a marksmanship medal
the next week?

Oh, good, ziti.

- Those pills, you know
they were for my back pain.

- Right.
And all the wine I drink

is for my front desk syndrome.

- Something you need, Trudy?

- I just need two minutes
of your time.

- Hey.

That was a good shoot.

You had no choice.

- Yeah.
Any word from Med?

- Yeah. Bergstrom is
in critical condition,

but he'll live.

More importantly,
Al is gonna be okay.

Okay, he got a couple
of cracked ribs,

no internal damage.

- Isn't this like number seven
or eight out of Al's nine lives?

We should send him
something, right?

- I mean, at least a bottle
of Bordeaux and a party cup.

- All right, we got an ID
on this dead operative?

- Yep.
Clay Carlson.

Pulled his prints,
he's got no priors.

Did eight years
in the Marines.

Got discharged two years ago,
spotty work history ever since.

- Disenfranchised

Needed a job.

He's the perfect guy
for Cullen to recruit.

- You hear from Al?
- Yeah, he's gonna be fine.

What do you got?

- About halfway through
cataloging Cullen's arsenal,

we got a hit
on this thing.

An M24 Army sniper rifle.

The only one so far
that came back stolen.

- Came off an Army Reserve base
out in Arlington Heights.

The suspected thief
is a reservist

by the name of
John Lee Radigan.

He was an Army Ranger, joined
the reserves two years ago

when he got back
from Afghanistan.

Went AWOL from reservist
training six months back.

- Ladies and gentlemen,
our third operative:

a trained killer.

- The colonel on the base
said it was an internal matter,

but he did give us
Radigan's LKA:

an apartment in Oak Park.

- Send us the address.

Hold on, Atwater.

I want you to go to the Streets
and Sanitation truck lot.

You call me as soon
as you get there.

Just do it.

All right,
this guy is heavily armed,

so watch your backs.

We got eyes on Radigan.

- Question is,
has he got eyes on us?

- We're a minute out with squad.
Should we move in?

- Negative.
He's in a bulletproof,

bombproof vehicle.

He's probably sitting in
the safest place in the city.

Just be ready
to pursue.

[car engine starting]

- What the hell
is he doing?

[tires screeching]

- Squad, 2051 in pursuit
of Radigan's vehicle.

[tires screeching]

he's taking a left on Damen.

- Got it.

[car horn blares]

[siren blaring]

- Voight,
he's coming back to you.

[sirens blaring]

- Shoot out the tires!


Let's go!

Atwater, you in position?

- Yes, sir.

[horn blaring]

- Take it, now!

- Copy that.

[sirens blaring]

Hey, hey, hey, hey, don't move.


- I got it.

State's attorney is gonna have
to figure out your charges.

I mean, if you're lucky,
he'll, uh,

he'll drop the murder charge
down to manslaughter

since you're, you know,

following the orders of a guy
who's mentally unstable.

- You interfered with
an operation

sanctioned by the CIA.

- If you're CIA...

How come nobody's come here
to get you out?

- Oh, don't worry.

They will.

And when they do...

I'll have your badge.

- You know...

I can't tell you how many times
I looked into that cage

at, you know, murderers,
rapists, pedophiles,

sitting, I mean,
right where you're sitting.

And you'd think--you'd think

that after all these years
that I'd be--

I'd be an expert
in psychology,

but I tell you the truth...

I mean, I--

I-I don't think I'll ever
understand what makes them tick.

You, I think I get.

You're not a bad guy.

You're just...

Looking for something
to believe in.


- Right up the middle.

Keep driving those uppercuts
right through the middle.

Use your hips,
use your legs.

Keep throwing!
All the way through.

Keep throwing.
- Okay, okay.

- Good job.

- Thanks.

Hey, Antonio told me
what happened.

- Oh, watch the ribs, kiddo.
- Oh, sorry.

I was really worried
about you.

- Well, I'm gonna--
I'm gonna take you to dinner.

- Okay.
Okay, I'll go get cleaned up.

- Okay.

- We've got him on
a morphine drip,

so he won't feel
any pain.

I'm afraid he won't make it
through the night.

I'll give you two
some time.

- [sobs]

I just want to thank you.

- For what?

- For making him happy

these last few days.

- You want to see me, boss?
- Yeah, come on in.

I think you might
need those.

- I'm reinstated?

- Full duty.
- [exhales deeply]

- Just got off the phone
with Deputy Crowley.

She's decided to drop
the investigation on your case.

- [chuckles]

I don't know what favors
you had to pull

to make this happen, boss,
but thank you, thank you.

Serving in this unit has been
nothing short of an honor.

- Adam...
- I'm gonna be the first one in,

last one to leave.

You need anything at all,
I'm your guy.

- Adam.
- Yeah?

- She's the one
you should be thanking.

- How'd you make this happen,

- Crowley and I go way back.

She's always been
a ball-breaker...

Which, of course,
is why I like her.

- I appreciate it.


- He's worth it, Trudy.

Trust me.

- Yeah, I know.

- Hi. So, Jay, I'm not usually
the match-making type guy,

but my wife wants to
set you up with somebody.

- Whoa, Herrmann,
what's wrong with me?

- Slow down.
Who--who is it?

- She's a great gal.
She's cute, you know?

And she's in
my wife's bridge club.

- [chuckles]
Okay, I take it back.

Jay, you can have her.

- Shut up.
- Thanks.

- Yeah, you're out?
All right. Hey.

- Hey.

- I thought--I thought you were
gonna call it an early night.

- Here you go.
- Thanks, Herrmann.

- Yep.

- I just figured I would
come by.

Maybe you'd be here.

- What we were
talking about earlier,

the whole, uh,
one-time thing,

so is that like one time
a week, one time a day?

- You're funny.

- All I'm saying is why--
why are we dancing around?

Voight doesn't have
a problem with it.

Everybody knows,

so why are we still
trying to hide it?

- That's a good point.

Do you want to
hold my hand in public now?

Or that.

We should get out of here.
- Mm-hmm.

- [chuckles]